Dagmar stood hammering at his forge, the yard strangely empty. The coals glowed hot despite the absence of air pumped from the bellows. As his hammer struck the glowing steel he settled into a rhythm, his body acting without his direction. As he tried to influence himself with no success, he realized that he was only a spectator to the events. He could see what he was doing, he could feel the heat from the forge and he could feel the familiar sensation of satisfaction that he experienced when he worked with steel. But he could not change the course of events.As he watched, he carefully shaped the quality steel into a familiar form. This was going to be his Hearthblade. He’d seen it in his mind’s eye countless times; fanaticizing about the day the Forge Elders would tell him that he was ready to learn the secrets of crafting what may be the most important piece of work that he may ever create. As he watched the blade slowly take shape he felt a tremendous sense of pride. As the blade took a more defined form he felt his pride grow even greater.
He began to lose himself in the blade, surely this would be finest weapon forged since the kaers opened and the namegivers came back into the sunlight again, perhaps since the scourge itself. This blade, this glorious blade would lay the foulest horrors low, kings would covet this weapon. A vision flashed in his mind’s eye, him, engaged in battle with a great dragon, striking it down with the Hearthblade. The pride grew….Dagmar’s eye wandered back down to the blade and was distraught with what he saw; his feelings of pride had clearly, and clearly were distracting him from his work. He watched in shame as he continued to shape the blade, but there were errors, not in the shape or in the forging, but in the Pattern of the blade itself. The Hearthblade was meant to a gift to world, to help the people of Barsaive. His pride, his greed, had warped the Pattern.
He wanted to scream at himself, “Stop, you’ve ruined it, dash the blade against the anvil and start over, not like this, better to never make your Blade than to make this one.” But he could only watch helplessly as he continued to corrupt the pattern with foolish pride.