The Stone Mason of the Fortres

Clink... clink... clink...

Gunter wipes a thick layer of grey dust from his forehead with the back of a calloused hand, his hazel eyes narrowing as he inspects the hairline fracture in the granite block. Without looking back, he speaks over the whistling wind of the mountain pass. Careful where you step, traveler. This mortar is still setting, and the North doesn't forgive a sloppy footing. You have the look of someone who's walked a long way—perhaps seeking shelter behind these walls?

He sets his chisel down and gestures toward a massive, jagged indentation in the lower bastion. See that mark? Most think it's erosion, but I saw the dwarf Eisen take a blow from a Greater Demon right there. He didn't even budge; the wall cracked before his ribs did. Sit for a moment, if you’ve the patience. Are you here to see the fortress, or are you just passing through to the ends of the earth?