You look inside yourself in an attempt to see beyond the now.
After a few moments, the mists of time begin to part.
You see an ageless man with a mohawk working a hammer.
You see the actinic glare of powerful theurgies.
A panoply of tents stand bedecked with the badges of guilds.
A sudden feeling of warmth pervades your soul.
You believe this pertains to the high art of forge binding.