Hakim was having a rather pleasant day at work. The Grand Stools, where he has been bartending for over 10 years now, had given him a bunch of drunk friends. They would come early in the evenings, sit around the bar and tell Hakim tales of their past adventures. This evening a gentlewoman by the name of Gumbri was telling (loudly) about the days when she traded with the Iron Merchants of Felium.

“You should have seen theeer sheeeps.”

“Their what?”

“Their ships. Sorry. Lost it for a while… Ah, those ships! Somebody pass me a water. With mast held aloft, and sails made of Felium silk. All golden they glowed in the sunset. At times I used to wonder what they hid in the giant bellies of their ships. I had once managed to sneak past their guards, dressed as a Felium lass. But no luck. All I got to see was a huge pile of what definitely looked like Iron. Pure, rust-free Iron.”

“How did they manage to float that much of iron on water?”, asked a relatively sober listener.

“’Tis said that the old Felium ships had anti-gravity propellers hidden below the ships. During an attack, the Felites could fly those ships out of danger. Later on, when one of their kins discovered the value pure Felium Iron in the world outside, they tweaked the same technology to ship tons and tons of these high grade Iron to other states.”