One may mistaken the noise for a woodpecker: stubborn and needy, its beak banging against the tree trunk in search of food. But, if you were to follow the noise, you'd find no bird but a young maiden with hammer in hand. Her strikes were constant and steady as her tool struck the nail, securing beams and walls into position; her structure slowly taking shape and form.

New to the Shire, she struggled to find her place amongst its residents. The local bulletin board had postings for adventurers to explore dungeon depths in search of relics and fame, yet her experience in combat was lacking. Other requested resources: minerals of the earth, flowers of the meadow, concoctions and brews of alchemic origin; yet her knowledge of the lay of the land was still developing.

Her survival in this land of opportunity and new beginnings forced her to lean heavily on a select handful that offered her a place amongst their ranks. They guided her, offering her advice and instruction in the ways of combat and self-preservation in the face of danger: teaching her how to navigate the dangerous roads and how to hold a staff upright and not upside down.

In return, she offered them manual labor: moving goods from to and fro, organizing shelves and boxes, and the such. In her efforts to repay her newly made friends, she found an affinity for construction and design. She began building homes, shops, and more for herself and her brethren.

As her hammer pressed another nail into place, she looked from her ladder's perch to the road before her: witnessing how her efforts and those of the Shire's denizens as the community was slowly growing. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and reached for another nail; her goal to return the kindness bestowed upon her to others one mallet swing closer.

[Committed to parchment by the hand of Ser Sammy]