General

Wordsmith at your anvil, in your sleepy town, fashion your tools from words of iron and forge them in the heat of your pain to awaken your soul to sparks.

General

Wordsmith you have a bold profession, luck you. Yet the world of words comes from places beyond the interface of heaven and your reality. So be sure, dear smith of language, that you dial up with the right emotions, the emotions every hero has instincts for, then ready your pen.

General

Wordsmith your hammer belongs to heaven and so never let hell steal its blows.

General

Wordsmith you fashion the very shoes of the horses that carry the angels onward, they cannot ride without the work it takes to strike each one just right.