The man who entered this afternoon continued to look at the leg longer then he really cared for and when he call him lame Smith over and over again it did grate on the smiths nerves. But the stones he carried in his wagon more then excused the strangers bad manners for here was precious cargo indeed. "Well lame Smith are you listening or is your mind as lame as your leg?" the stranger smirked. The smith brought his thoughts back to the business at hand and he glared at the smiling man and griped his armorsmithing hammer a little tighter in his huge hand. "Aye I hear thee stranger. I just do not know if I believe the words you speak is all." For he claimed the rocks to be the legendary star stones, the ones thrown to the earth by the Gods themselves. "And what would you have me do with such material good sire?" the smith said with not a little scorn in his voice for this man was truly beginning to annoy the smith and he was starting to wish the man gone. But then so would be the stones and the smith hungered to fire and strike such material and so he squelched his anger and listened once again to the stranger.

"Why a weapon of course you fool that is what I require. A mighty war-hammer so I might make a name for myself up on the Wall." If this verbal abuse continued this man would have a name for himself right here in Sanctuary as the man bashed by the large smiths own hammer. But the smith laid his hammer by the anvil in the center of the stall so he would not be tempted to do great harm to the other man and walked to the back of the wagon to contemplate the task at hand. "It will take 2 days to just raise the fire in the forge to the degree required to melt such material." He said as he rubbed his hand across the stones. "And then another week to strike the metal into the weapon you describe and it will have to be bound with silver not iron to hold it’s form and strike true." The other man looked dismayed but nodded in agreement. He gave the smith 2 small bags of gold to purchase the silver that would be needed and unhitched the horse from the wagon and climbed atop the steed. "Two weeks and I shall return for the item. Two weeks and no more lame Smith and you can name your price for the work at that time. You’ll find that I am not a ungenerous man." The weaponsmith shook his head as he watched the stranger ride away across the square wondering why he would treat other in such an uncouth manner. But his thoughts turned back to the wagon and he moved it to the back of the stall by hand so he might begin his greatest work ever.

He had been wrong about the 2 days to stoke the forge to the hellfire he needed to even begin to melt the stone for it took a little over 3. But once melted the mixing went smoothly and on the fourth day he began to mold and strike the mighty weapon. His first attempts did not go well at all for the star stones did not seem to wish to be handled in the fashion the smith had been taught since a youth in his fathers shop. The scrap heap grew larger and he feared he would run out of stone and gold for the silver before he could find the formula to make this metal bend to his will. But finally on the 12^th day after a sleepless night with only enough stone left for one last attempt the metal gave into the mighty smith blows and moved in such a way that the smith feared once again he had failed in his task. He looked deeply into the face of the war-hammer and he could swear he could see the flowing of blood inside the weapon. He turned away from the unholy sight and looked around his stall for a handle on which to mount it. Taking a sturdy piece of oak and leather bindings he completed the job.

For the next two days the smith sat in the corner of shop staring at the weapon as it lay on the forge. He struggled with his good conscience for he knew in his heart what this hammer could do once taken up in any mans hands even the hands of a lame smith. The battles that would be won and the fame that would be bestowed on the wielder would bring more gold then the smith would see in two life times. He could just disappear with the thing in the night and travel where the stranger would not find him. And even if he did the hammer would silence him quick enough. After all the man could use a lesson in good manners.

But at last the honor that the smith lived by would not allow him to take the weapon and so when the stranger reappeared on the 14^th day the smith was ready with the hammer oiled and wrapped in doe’s skin. The smile on the man’s face was large indeed as he swung the mighty thing a few times in the air to test its weight and feel. "Lame Smith you have out done yourself for this is truly a weapon for a God." "Aye" was all the smith said as he looked up at the stranger and handed him his tally board for the job now done. The man looked over the figures and shook his head "Truly this is too little for such a feat you have performed?" But the smith refused to take any more and wished the man would just make the required payment and leave so the smith might get back to his other customers. " Will lame smith if that is the way you want it here is your gold perhaps you can make something from the scrap pile to sell also. And for being a honest man, something very hard to find these days I give you one thing more." The smith looked up at the man and in a blink his eyes beheld not a man on a bay mare but a God clad in white armor on a horse as red as the blood he had beheld inside the hammer. "You my good smith shall no longer be know as the lame weaponsmith." He bellowed. And with a wave of the mighty hammer the smith’s leg was made whole. " For the Hammers name be Justice and the blood it will spill will not be innocent for death awaits the sinners it will slay." And with a bright flash he was gone.

So the smith rejoiced in the knowledge of the events that took place and sometime later heard tales of Justice and the God who wielded it. And he smiled and was glad he had not bashed him with his own hammer after all it’s not everyday you work in the presence of a God, even a bad mannered one……Fini