The Blacksmith

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Mood: On a hill above the mead hall, the glowing embers of the forge send smoky tendrils into the cold air. Racks of weapons, imbued with secret powers, await the adventurer's hand s. Smells Like: Charcoal, glowing embers, leather-wrapped hilts, and smoke augmented by tonka beans. ---------- The city lies quiet on this cold winter morn except for the rhythmic clang of the smith's hammer. At his station above the ancient mead hall, he has worked his craft since the break of dawn. His mighty swings send sparks to the sky. The steel glows red. He thrusts it into the waiting water. With a mighty hiss, steam rises into the cold air. This blade will be a mighty weapon, ready to slay foes and protect allies. He allows himself a knowing smile and turns his gaze to the monument towering over his forge. The old stone statue gazes back, its unmoving gaze penetrating. It has seen many smiths and many warriors, for it has stood there longer than the mead hall, longer than any who now live can remember. Magic stirs the air. The blade forged here is destined for great deeds. ---------- Thank you for supporting a small family-operated business! We can't wait to delight you and transform your home into a fantasy realm! Show more