It was almost done. When Bartok the Bold had strolled into his smithy, and had demanded a Silver Hammer, Argnok could hardly contain his glee. That meant 2500 gold pieces to fill his rapidly depleting stores. Times had been tough in the village, and 3 gold here and 4 gold there for the usual studded clubs just weren't keeping his family fed.
Now though, now a hero had come to town. He had come and there were undead to battle. Argnok smiled heartily as he put the finishing touches on the handle, and gazed at the gleaming head of his most masterful work ever. Bartok would be happy, he thought, and so would Argnok.
That evening, he fell asleep to the dream of endless gold, and when the undead attacked the village in the dead of night, Bartok's hammer went unnoticed on the wall, and Argnok never woke again. |
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