Flashback Dedicating Herself to Izurdin's Will [Solo]

[Ly'an Godhammer]

3rd of Spring 493 AV Ly'an found herself once more alone in the forge of Izurdin, it was always quiet there for her, a calm and relaxing place the Isurian found she could think upon her faith, her life thus far, and the world around her. Ly'an didn't find herself forging today, no instead she found herself standing before the monumental slab of ornately crafted metal that stood in the middle of the room. It as Izurdin's Anvil. She was always amazed by the magnificent piece of craftsmanship of the race's dedication to their craft. Father's dedication echoed in this hall of forges, each of the forges were well lit, the coals within dutifully remained as such as the weaponsmith made sure of it. Her eyes now though were riveted to the anvil's striking surface. Ly'an could imagine the hammer of Izurdin sparking and bouncing from the surface as he forged something truly wondrous. She could hear the echo in her mind as her imagination rippled with the glow of a master's forging technique shown brightly in her mind. “Father, grant me the will to forever remain on the path I have lain out before myself.” The weaponsmith started to speak, one hand resting gingerly on the anvil's edge, taking in the immensity of what she was asking, the other strayed to the pendant that hung from her neck. Closing her eyes Ly'an pictured the forge of her soul sitting there idle, the coals banked up high to keep from burning out. “Father, give me the strength to continue on the path I have forged before myself. I am one of your daughters. A child made of granite, a forger of metals. Your gift has graced my being, my soul, my everything.” Her words were whispered, but she could hear them echoing as loudly as ever. “Father I lay before you my hammer and dedicate my craft, my soul, and my body to your will and your scrutiny.” The words were words of convictions, of faith and of dedication. Tears could be seen trembling on the barrier between forming and free-falling. “I look to you for guidance, for reassurance that my life has meaning. That good will emerge from the pit of darkness I have found myself within.” The tears fell free from their invisible gate, tracing red paths for others to surely follow. “Oh Father. I beg of you to hear my cries of devotion. To wipe away the tears of sorrow that trace my mortal cheeks. Tilting her head upward to the ceiling Ly'an released a sigh “Father, I give my everything to you in dedication, in faith, in love, in life, in happiness, in sorrow...” Her words caught there for a second as she reached from necklace to face and wiped tears away, only for more to follow. “... In death.” She sighed, the waterworks from her eyes ceased, as if she felt some sort of heavy weight that was bearing down upon her chest suddenly lifted. The forge within her grew brighter as she stood there, basking in her Father's glory. I dedicate my life to Father. Forgive me my kinsmen. Father's will is my only course of action. Dropping to her knees before the anvil she leaned her bald crown against it. It was cold, solid, sturdy... And it was Father's....

[Ly'an Godhammer]

Heavenly Father of my Soul. Throw my unforged soul into the forge and hammer it into a being of your liking. My soul is Yours to do with what Your Will demands of it. Heavenly Father strike out my impurities and bring forth my most pure aspects. Only Your Forge can cleanse me of my nightmares, my impurities, and my wrong-doings. Ly'an remained kneeling before Izurdin's Anvil, anyone that came in would see the forges around her were burning brightly, fully lit and raging with heat, ready to use. However, to the lady smith she saw nothing of the reality, only what her mind as showing her. Her soul's forge was dimming, but not in the sense of dying, it as dimming in the sense that is was retaining it's heat, but didn't require oxygen to maintain it in it's fullness. My soul's forge is ready for your guidance, I beg of you Father. Aid me in my journey, You Will is my will. Your Demands are mine. Your Courage I beg of thee to lend. I am Yours fully. In mind. Ly'an exhaled softly as this point, realizing that she was holding her breath. In Spirit... She inhaled and exhaled softly. In Body... Once more her body took in oxygen, tasting the sulfuric brimstone-y accent of the coal burning in the forges. Her exhale forcing the accent taste away, clearing her thoughts. In Everything that is Me... With a final coupling of inhales and exhales Ly'an stood from her kneeling and stared at the Anvil's striking surface once again. “My Forge is Yours, Father.” She murmured, placing a hand on the anvil, tracing the image struck into it's facade. “My Soul is Yours, Father.” Leaning forward she whispered those words. Still in that position she gently graced the image with a kiss, “...Forever Yours.” Ly'an fell silent once again, sliding down to her rump, settling onto the cold hard floor before it. Wrapping arms around knees she whimpered, “My Everything for You...” She whispered then leaned her head against the work bench closest to her and fell asleep.

[Ly'an Godhammer]

4th of Spring 493AV Ly’an stirred from her stiff position at the base of her Father’s anvil. The day before was still vivid in her mind and she rose to her knees before the massive and beautiful monument. “Morning Father, may your day be ever bright and may you grace me with your strength and dedication.” She smiled; it was the first time in many days that she had such a smile. It was a wide crack showing all her teeth in their glory. Shoving her meager belongings into her backpack the smith looked around the forge room, still empty. It was with a sigh of relief that Ly’an scurried from the room out to the main hall and quickly out of the building itself, she had no plans today, just felt she needed some fresher air, less noise and heat. So she found herself wandering the streets, roads, and caverns of the main city until she found herself on the walkway high above the lake. Looking down at it, the Isurian smithy could see the murky surface glowing faintly with fish, it brought a smile upon her face. “Father, I am thinking of sending an invitation out to Artifex to meet me here in a couple of days hence, it is a quiet place and he appears to need some quiet and a friend. Something troubles him so and I hate to see him in such a way.” She knew that he had gone out and purchased a large blind lizard a few days ago, it scared the Vizerian weaponsmith to no end. Bloody lizard can’t even see us! Petching creature. Why did Arty need such a beast anyway? Takes time away from actual contact amongst his peers… Including me. Ly’an shook her head, “All that means nothing. Maybe he just felt like a new pet in his life, or he felt it would be a fanciful gift to someone he is trying to woo. It doesn’t matter really. I have Father’s Love, Guidance, and Dedication. I shall persevere.”

[Whimsy]

Ly'an

Experience	Lore
+3 Philosophy	Dedicating One's Life to Izurdin
	True Holistic Faith
	Breathing Exercises
	Faith as Life's Purpose

Comments
Her faith is very very strong, almost to a fanatical degree... I would love to see what happens when someone tries to challenge it! Excellent work as always. PM me if you have any questions or concerns.

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