Pound the steel

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sound of steel being pounded out on an anvil echoed from the forge as Artorias brought the hammer down on the billet of Carpathian steel again and again, stretching out the red hot metal and shaping it into the form in his mind. Focused amber eyes matched the fiery sparks that flew from the metal with every strike upon the steel, following the rippling metal as it was shaped with each firm swing, moulding the steel like an artist with wet clay. Sweat beaded across the dire brute’s forehead as the Lord of Cinder worked his forge like a master, dripping from his brow and the ends of his fur, powerful muscles rippling beneath his skin and coat. He was truly living up to his title as fire and metal bent to his will and command.

The heat of the forge kept the chill of winter at bay while he worked, beating the Carpathian steel into its intended shape until the red glow began to fade as the metal cooled. When it was no longer suitable to be worked, Artorias set the hammer down and picked up the billet with a set of tongs in his jaws, then shoved it back into the smoldering forge, the burning coals within glowing a steady orange. Artorias stepped down on the billows with all his weight a couple of times, pumping air into the forge and bringing it roaring back to life as fire erupted from between the coals to heat the metal once more. When the forge was crackling away at a satisfactory rate, Artorias stepped back to give the steel time to heat up again, carefully turning the tongs around every so often to ensure the metal was heating at an even rate. He'd have a few minutes of downtime while he waited for the metal to return to its malleable state, so he used his time to take a breather, down some water to keep himself hydrated, and consider his next steps in working the metal his family was renowned for.

"Artorias & Briar Carpathius" | "Carpathian"