One evening I hammered away at a hunk of metal, shaping it into the saw it would become.

As I
put my hammer down to wipe my brow, I hear a clang so loud my body quivers at it, but I am unharmed
and through it I hear a booming voice,

“MORTAL, YOU HAVE GREAT RESPECT FOR YOUR CRAFT

AND POWER IN YOUR HANDS, FOR THIS I WILL GUIDE
YOU.”
With the crash of metal, a bright light consumed the workshop, bringing me to a great hall, a
place of heat, a place of work, sounds of work all mixing into one melody of production. I did not know
the place, but as if by instinct the name came to mind “Artifexum,” I whispered. A large bearded man
stood at the end of it all, hammering away at a golden anvil with a deafening beat. As I approached
each craftsman fell still and silent. As I get closer the huge smith, he slows his beats till it stop. He turns
to me and bellows,

“MORTAL, I HAVE CALLED YOU HERE, THE

CRAFTSMAN’S HALL, THE HOME OF ONE OF THE MOST
HIGH GODS, I, XESTUS. I WAS THE TEACHER OF
HUMANITY, THE ONE WHO SHOWED YOU THE CRAFTS,
BUT YOU USE IT FOR DESTRUCTION, GO OUT TO THE
FORUM OF THE TWELVE, SPREAD MY MESSAGE.”
The Godly smith’s voice was titanic, shaking my soul to the core, there was no mistaking he was
who he claimed, but I still did not know where he was to send me. So, with my quivering form beneath
this god, I spoke up,

“But, Lord Xestus, how will I find this land you speak of, for I know not of the Gods you speak of,
and what shall I do about my smithy, for I have a life back home.”

At this Xestus only laughed, a great bellowing laugh that boomed though the hall. As he finished
the jolly on his face turned to great seriousness, he turned back to the silver rod he was hammering,

“THIS ROD WILL GUIDE YOU, AS WILL I MY

CHAMPION. FOLLOW THE GLOW OF THE RUNES ON THE
ROD ALONG WITH THE BEAT OF MY HAMMER.
 NOW GO, LEAVE YOUR OLD LIFE BEHIND, AS YOU
ARE NOW NO LONGER A MEER SMITH, YOU ARE NOW A
REVELATOR OF THE MOST HIGH GOD, XESTUS.