Sausage and Steel

Sausage-making and smithing. Smithing and sausage-making. Torn between these two trades was how Dwiggans spent his youth in Gwidry. Born to a long line of reputable blacksmiths, it was always expected he would follow suit. Smithing ran deep in his bloodline. Though, in his heart of hearts, he knew it wasn't his true passion. Something else called his name. He was born to make sausage. A revered blacksmith in Gwidry, Dwiggans' father had begun teaching Dwiggans the way of the forge at a very young age. Dwiggans apprenticed under his father and spent most of his waking hours at the forge. During these long days he would eye the respected butcher whose stall was located across from the forge. Cutting, chopping, trimming, grinding. All day long patrons passed through purchasing their cuts of meat. It wasn't long before Dwiggans began conversing with the butcher during his breaks or when his father was preoccupied. He befriended the butcher and began learning some of his craft. Namely, the sausage-making process. This process piqued his interest greatly. All the herbs, spices, seasonings, and meat combinations used to fashion one delectable sausage. It was his calling. However, his father would hear nothing of it and he knew that. But Dwiggans' dilemma would soon resolve. His father's handiwork began to slip as he took to the firebreather more with each passing year. It was seemingly inevitable that his father, drunk as a has-been bard, tripped and cracked his head open on his anvil working late one night. The following morning Dwiggans found him lying face down in a pool of blood next to an impressive pile of empty firebreather. It didn't take an elf to piece together what had transpired. Dwiggans felt sorrow about his father's untimely passing but that wasn't first and foremost on his mind - he would be expected to take over the forge thus denying him a chance to pursue his passion for sausage-making. His mother would need provided for so what options was he left with? He decided shortly thereafter to enlist in the local militia to earn his living as a mercenary. This would certainly give him more flexibility than running the forge, take the jobs he wanted and turn down the rest. And with that flexibility he could pursue his true passion. After learning the basics of combat he began taking on jobs as they were offered. Between jobs he would still make a point to drop by the butcher for a meaty conversation. It was enough to scratch his itch. He committed himself to never compromising on his values in order earn his living. But life in Serin is not that simple. After a particularly rough stretch with few jobs, Dwiggans was offered a job paying a year's compensation. But there was a catch - kill an innocent livestock farmer to eliminate his client's competition. He knew this went against every honest bone in his body. But the prospect of a year's wealth was too great. He carried out the mission with ease, slaying the innocent farmer as he slept, and that was the night everything changed. The very next day he learned the farmer was the butcher's brother who provided all the meat he prepared for his living. It wasn't long before the butcher closed up shop because he lost his supplier. Dwiggans couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He wouldn't dare accept the commission. Bearing the weight of what he'd done was too much. To dull the pain he took to the firebreather just as his father had. He lost contact with his mother who must be worried sick or worse. To put it simply, he was lost. After months of downward spiral, a member of the paladin guild found him. Dirty, disheveled, out of money, out of luck. The paladin spent a few weeks helping Dwiggans get back on his feet. He gave him some money, found him some honest work, and offered him guidance. The paladin accepted nothing in return, as adamant as Dwiggans was, and simply told him what he saw was a dwarf in need and helped him as he would help any other. Without so much as a goodbye, the paladin continued on his travels never to be seen again. Dwiggans was so moved by the warmth the paladin showed, he decided the only way to repay such a debt would be joining the ranks of Serin's paladin guild. At last he felt a sense of purpose, a feeling he welcomed. He could right his wrongs of the past, in time. And one day, he could retire to become the finest sausage-maker in all of Serin.