"What is he working on now?" Etrin asks, stepping out.

"All of those things Are pretty horrible. HOw are we supposed to stand up to him?"

"We call always make the walls stronger, and the gate thicker." Etrin says poking his head out of the Tower that held the forge. His face face ruddy with the kiss of the flame and his face smeared with soot. "There are alot of people down at the fishing village and in the mining area....

"Its good that you can be that certain of her survival. Makes it easier to keep going, when you have something or someone to live for." Etrin says.

“I lived in the fishing village my whole life. I never had a really hard time of it, not like some. But when the elves came, it was awful. But thank goodness for Queen Esmeralda. With out her, we wouldn’t have made it. “ Etrin said. “My father died when I was ten of Consumption, and left me. So I mi...

“My father was a blacksmith in the fishing village. He made hooks, nails, and the likes. He died before he could teach me to make weapons, and to be honest, before the elves came, I didn’t think I would ever need to make them.” Etrin says, touching the burn mark on the right hand side of his face. “...

"I'm not familiar with weapons. Before I came here, I made pots and horseshoes. But, I am getting the hang of it." Etrin says, his face covered in soot.

"I'm Etrin."

Muscled arms covered in soot pushed the bellows as the fire blew hot. The blade of a sword rested between two cast iron props, allowing the air to get under and bring the temperature upwards of a thousand degrees. Etrin pulled the blade out, and set it on the anvil, the thing was white hot, and ashe...

It is hot in the forge, so hot that the few precious droplets of sweat that bead out evaporate as quickly as they wick from the skin of the man. He has strong arms, soot covered and thick leather gloves to the elbow. He is wearing a red leather face mask, over his mouth to keep the fumes from burnin...