The Discontent of Nathan Cartwright - a short story (Part 1)
Nathan Cartwright stood at the entrance and looked up. He briefly sneezed - a familiar reaction he had whenever he looked at the sun. A shadow cast across his face and then he was able to readjust his sight to gain a closer inspection of the new wooden sign that the Guildmaster had hung above the entrance.

EN-RON
The Bosom of Great Iron Works

He stared blankly at the display, trying to rid himself of the thought that the Guildmaster was possibly entertaining dementia of greater potency. Indeed, it was only yesterday that the Guild had been known by the more illustrative title Men of Iron, indicating, at least to the passerby, that within the guildshop men were toiling away over luciferian pits of fire, fashioning metal into the useful tools of iron that society was keen on. Somehow though, Men of Iron employed more syllables than what the Guildmaster found tasteful. In his latest move at attaining and employing "efficiencies", the Guildmaster decided to trim away the foul and the useless, much as one does when cutting the mold from a breadloaf. Hence Men of Iron became En-Ron and a new wooden sign was ordered for publicity. This En Ron. What a foul sounding bit of wordplay. Indeed it was devilish. The thing only men of the future would appreciate. Men sunken in their morals and sodden with pursuits of hard drink and fornication. It disgusted Nathan to work in such a grotesquely named shop.

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