I'm Grimm, miner and smith by trade, and I've found myself in a tight spot near Minoc—stuck at 2524, 547 with no pickaxe and empty pockets. Took a bad fall in the tunnels, lost my tools and most of my supplies. I’ve still got strength in my arms and fire in my forge, but I can’t dig ore without a pick, and I can’t eat pride. I’m not asking for charity—just a hand to get back on my feet.
If someone can bring me a pickaxe or even a scrap of iron I can shape into one, I’ll repay the debt in labor or crafted goods. Need leather, ingots, weapons, or repairs? I’ll make them strong and true—no shortcuts in my work. I’ve survived worse than this, but the earth won’t wait, and neither will I. Meet me near the ridge west of Minoc, where the ore veins run dark. I’ll be there, ready to work.
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