Peek: Seaside Forge

Smoke drifts from the chimney of the Seaside Forge in Fourdock.  While the building is within sight of the ocean, most of the residents wouldn't count it as being beside the sea, but most of the residents aren't dwarves.  By dwarven standards, Hrunter Redbeard may as well be swimming while he's forging.

Most dwarves are more than happy to stay in the Holds, only seeing the sky on rare occasions.  Some, like Hrunter, simply get the itch to wander, to see what there is beyond the Holds.  The stout dwarf is hairy, even by dwarven standards, enough so that some of his beastkin neighbors joke that he's a red-headed molekin rather than a dwarf.

He, of course, corrects them.  He's hairier than any mole he saw before leaving the Holds, though he does admit to his eyes being properly beady.  He likes Fourdock.  The people are simple and friendly, and the adventurer's guild is good for business.

That new dungeon is even better for business.  He has no intention of delving, preferring to use his hammer on the inanimate things of steel that are designed for fighting, rather than whatever the dungeon makes for fighting.

Sometimes, he wonders if he's the only one in town who hasn't at least gone to take a look.  He has to admit, the temptation grows every day.  He hasn't had a chance to use a pick since he dug out his proper dwarven forge, way back when he first moved here.  Those that do challenge it bring him quality ore.  He doesn't think it holds a candle to what the Holds can produce... but it's not an insult to work with.

The dungeon challenges all who enter it with combat, which is great for a smith like himself.  That means a lot more demand for various weapons.  Daggers are the most popular by far; a solid tool and a decent weapon all in one.  Other weapons are still in demand, especially since people just don't seem to die in Thedeim.  They'll see a challenge a dagger just won't be up for, and start to wonder if they could manage it with a more specialized weapon.

Oh, he's seen battered and bruised adventurers perusing his wares, weighing the cost of their bruised pride versus the gold they'd have to spend to salvage it.  Those ones always try to haggle the prices down, but quickly learn that Hrunter is as good at haggling as he is at forging.  They usually realize they're on a whole new losing battle field quickly, and either leave in a huff, or sigh and get something that's within their price range.

He chuckles at the pleasant thoughts, before returning his focus to his forge.  That catkin finally stopped simply gazing longingly at the sign that lists commission prices, and put up some coin for a custom order.  It was such an interesting commission that Hrunter even let him haggle a couple coins down.  It's not every day someone wants blades with no handles.

They're a challenge to make, especially since they're to be a matching set of four.  Double-bladed, slightly curved, shaped like he snapped two daggers at the hilt and welded the broken ends together.  They're an interesting challenge.  There's no proper end to hold while forging, nor while sharpening.  The nicks and burns he's suffered in their creation makes him feel like an apprentice again, in all the best ways.  Rarely do smiths get to make something new, and it's an even rarer experience for a dwarven smith.

With the blades forged and sharpened, now he just needs to do the runework.  He flexes his meta affinity as he inscribes the blades with durability and sharpness runes.  He could add other affinities if the cat wanted, but he said he prefers a simple baseline that he can modify on his own later.

Hrunter isn't insulted.  On the contrary, it means his weapons will see steady use, instead of sitting in a sheath most of their existence, slowly rusting until their affinity is needed.

Eventually, he leans back, letting himself enjoy a satisfied smile wide enough for his teeth to actually show through his beard and mustache.  They're no family heirloom axe or cragplate armor, but he'd put them among his better works.