Role

Chapter 6

Many events have seemed to occurred in a relatively short period for Gahtho.
First, he was accepted as an apprentice stonemason and witnessed am amazing
feat by Lady Ysaloerye. While they were speaking of masonry, he had mentioned
certain tools of the trade. She scoffed at the use of physical tools and
crouched low to the ground. The fireplace crackled and popped, casting a
divine glow across the Ladys features and adding to the awe-inspiring aura
she exudes. She began chanting in a low and deep tone, her voice rumbling
through the mountains and over Gahthos very soul. He could feel the vibration
deep within, her divine might washed over him as he watched. She placed a
stubby hand onto the cold stone of the Inns floor and it soon melted, turning
to a pure molten ore. They spoke of how this ore was deep within Thera and
that Gahtho had to find his own, deep within himself. He had read too much
into the question which was asked before and now believes he knows what fire
fuels his soul. It is the fire of rage. He still mourns the loss of his loves
but does not wallow in pity but instead grows with rage, fueling his soul.

The second major event in his life as of late has been the passing of his
best friend, Drillmaster Charunycain. He was a very brave man and Gahtho has
taken his example and tried to fill himself with the same courage. Sometimes
the war is hard and things seem bleak but he remembers how his friend carried
on and, along with his faith and rage, gives him what he needs to continue.
Gahtho believes Charunycain was a bit reckless, but he got the job done and
was the very embodiment of courage and rage. He was everything a Berserker
should be and will always be in his heart. At the time, he was the only
Villager that Gahtho felt truly close to and he had hoped to one day see him
fly the banner of the Commander. His life had seemed to pass so quickly but
Gahtho had learned many lessons from him. He still mourns his passing.

The third major event was being named Drillmaster. It was truly an honor,
especially to have his goddess give him the banner to put over his burrow and
to be following in the steps of his late friend. As Gahtho gripped the
traditional blade of the Drillmaster he felt a deep kinship with all those
that came to pass. So many others have wielded the very blade, so many brave
and strong ancestors from the Villages past. Gahtho wonders how old the blade
truly is, could it have been in the first war?