The Mendicant's Gift

There was once a dwarven crafter, as skilled and artful as any other. They lived in a small town in the Sagris Fields in a time before cities like Thirboldohr ever existed. Back then the clans weren't vying for control of the land, constantly at each other's throats yet. They mostly traveled the land and settled where they could, trying their hand at trade and cooperation with the other settlements and families they encountered. The main threat to the crafter's family was the land itself, and the monsters that prowled it.
The crafter was no warrior, and nor was anyone living in that town. They had found a way to surive by making a deal with one of the clans in the area. The town would use their smiths and crafters to provide them with weapons and tools and in exchange that clan would clear the area of any dangers to the settlement.
But the that arrangement did not last forever. The warrior clan eventually set their sights on the settlement, they were not content with simply trading with the families there, they wanted ownership over it. They believed no one should have a right to land they cannot protect. So they attacked the town killing everyone in it, except for the crafter. They left them alive so that they could teach the new owners of the settlement the secrets the other crafter's had known.
Having no other option, the crafter conceded and began teaching the warriors how to make tools and weapons like their family used to. Every day the crafter would go the Blytheset River to find some measure of peace and to mourn all of the fallen. They would say a prayer to the Skosdrin, seeking the guidance of Skardi.
The warriors were not content with their new settlement and eventually decided to expand their territory, searching for new places to take over. They would force the crafter to join on their raids and continue passing on their knowledge to their new subjects. And every time the crafter would return home and go to the river begging the gods for any assistance.
One day as the crafter was returning home with the leader of the warriors after checking up on some new settlement, they found their home was no longer there. The river had overflown and all of the warriors who had stayed behind were dead. The surviving warrior cursed the crafter blaming them for what happened. He marched the crafter to the river to drown them. But they were swept away by the current. The warrior's body was crushed against the rocks. But the crafter survived. They were pulled out of the current by someone, but they were not able to see who.
After those events the crafter slowly began to rebuild the settlement and once again devoted themself to making friendly contact with the neighboring clans. They spent their last days crafting a sculpture in honor of Skardi next to the river. To this day many believe that the spirit of Skardi resides in the river and guards the fields against those that threaten peace and civilization.