Visit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode!Diary of Gorim IronfistEntry 1: The Road Beyond KhazendirIt's been three days since I left the stone halls of Khazendir. The mountain's shadow feels distant now, replaced by the endless stretch of green and sky. I miss the comforting echo of pickaxes and the scent of iron and earth. But there's a spark of excitement in this unknown road—perhaps I'll find more than ore out here.Entry 4: Arrival in ElderbrookElderbrook—a quaint human village nestled near an abandoned quarry. The people eyed me like a stray goat wandering into their fields. Their tools are crude, their mining efforts laughable at best. But there's potential here, hidden beneath both stone and skepticism. Maybe I can teach them a thing or two.Entry 7: First LessonsConvincing them wasn’t easy. They doubted my small stature, but skill speaks louder than size. I showed them how to read the rock’s veins, how to strike with purpose, not just force. Young lad named Tomas picked it up quickly. Reminds me of my nephew back home—keen eyes, eager hands.Entry 12: Bonds ForgedThe quarry bustles now, echoes of picks and laughter mingling in the air. They’ve started inviting me to their gatherings—shared ale, bread, and tales beneath starlit skies. I never thought I’d feel at home among humans, but their warmth is as strong as any forge.Entry 18: ReflectionsTomas called me "Master Gorim" today. Felt odd, yet… right. I see now that I needed this journey more than I realized. Not just to teach, but to learn—to find family beyond blood and stone.Entry 25: Legacy in StoneYears have passed like rivers flowing over rock. The quarry thrives, Elderbrook prospers. They’re erecting a statue in my honor—said I changed their lives. Funny thing is, they changed mine more. I won’t return to Khazendir; my heart belongs here now.Final Entry:My hands grow weary, my beard grayer. But my spirit is content. I came seeking purpose beyond the mountain’s reach and found it in the hearts of those I taught. My pickaxe may rest soon, but my legacy will echo in every strike, in every stone turned. Gorim Ironfist—dwarf, miner, teacher, friend.And thus, his diary remained—a testament to a life well-lived, not just beneath mountains, but under the vast sky of newfound kinship.

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