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... iron anvil in the forging room, resting.
He liked this spot; he had been sitting here since he was very young.
Back then, a Black Iron Dwarf with strong arms would forge weapons in front of him, the pounding sounds had become the safest sound in his memories.
He was an orphan; there were many orphans like him during the constant migrations of the Black Iron Dwarves.
Typically, orphans like him who had lost their parents were doomed to die on the migration routes, ...
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