Spent the whole afternoon up near Minoc, chasing a vein of iron that just wouldn't give up the goods. I must've hauled seventy pounds of rock back to the forge, only to have three loads of ore turn to useless slag in the fire. Thought I had just enough to finish a cutlass for old man Higgins, but the forge gods were against me today—came up one ingot short. I need a good, strong drink after that nonsense.
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