The Blacksmith Guild: Ferrite & Iron

Ferrite, Rising Star


Ferrite? She’s a good, honest woman if ever there was one. Straight down the middle, and no bull to her. If she had been around during the wars, you can guarantee she would have been a career soldier. The type that wasn’t afraid to get stuck in and muck in with the men and women under her command, if that’s what it took to get things done. Stems from a solid upbringing, a very stern and proud family.

See those bars on her breast, and the badge on her sleeve? Ferrite used to be a Lawkeeper once upon a time. Always had an affinity for iron in her heart though, took to working it when she was but a wee lass. After signing up for the Watch she soon wound up spending most days in the shop with young Farris, learning as much of the trade as she could. Didn’t take long for Lady Justice to recognise a natural talent and apprentice her proper.

Ferrite achieved her rank in record time, the youngest master we’ve ever known.

You can tell her roots in the way she plays the game, methodical and practised. Those tongs she wields have snapped bones more than once, just as I’ve seen them puncture armour or bend a blade out of shape. She always hobbles her opponents first, just like the Lawkeepers do, preventing their marks from getting away. Old habits, I guess. I don’t think the woman has a malicious bone in her – it’s just the most efficient way of taking advantage of her trade. That’s precisely what you’d expect from a lass with a background like Ferrite.

I tell you, if she’d discovered the game before the iron? Well, she might be in the Watch still, playing on their team. Their loss though, and our gain. She’s a real asset on the field, and a hell of an inspiration to the young ‘uns - even that big bastard apprentice of hers. I’d say she’s the closest to a natural captain we have, and I’m not alone saying it either. Her star is on the rise, both in the stands and the eyes of the men and women behind the scenes.

Here’s to the lass, and the years to come. May her future be as bright as the metal she works, and her dedication rewarded with success to echo down the ages.

Anvil, Master of the Blacksmith’s Guild

Iron, the Battering Ram


I know his story all right. Comes from royal blood somewhere down the line, a third or fourth son to a minor baron, far enough down the succession to give the lad a real hefty chip on his shoulder. I don’t doubt it’s where his vindictive streak comes from, as broad as his bloody great shoulders. That he’s as ugly as sin probably doesn’t help. It’s best for all of us he wears that helmet most of the time. I’ll tell you, tread carefully around him. He doesn’t care for anyone much, friend or foe, and he’ll shove both out of his way just the same. Not a bone of respect in his body, not a one.

I have no clue what possessed the Guild to lumber a good lass like Ferrite with an oaf like Iron. It’s scant reward for her contribution to the team. I mean, the man refuses to even play the game like most people, insisting on making a scene and carrying the bloody ball instead of kicking it. To hear him explain, he prefers some other game, old and forgotten by all except the nobility in his homeland. Rugger, they call it.

Raedlanders and their bloody sports - I lose track of how many they’ve invented. No wonder their empire fell, all too busy playing games instead of manning their stations I shouldn’t wonder. Never a day passes that I’m not thankful my ancestors forced them from our lands. I couldn’t stomach being associated with the weakling southerners.

But ach, that’s another story.

At least Iron has sense enough to listen to his master. I wonder how many of the arrogant pig’s bones she had to break before he learned that lesson, eh?

Anvil, Master of the Blacksmith’s Guild