The Great Forge of Kapova Dome had been running a light crew through most of the day. Despite the heat, the forge was close to the outer walls of the Dome so cold seemed to seep in through the cracks in the stone. As the sun was beginning to set the Dome would require the forges working at full blast to help push back against the cold. The blacksmiths of Moragon were not just the makers of things but they were life givers who used their craft to heat the massive domes. As the Foreman of the Southern Kapova forge Ryba started the daily process of having the apprentice smiths stir the coals and work the bellows.
Reds and oranges illuminated the stone walls as one flue after another was open. Some taking smoke out of the Domes and some funneling heat into the homes of the nearby city. Each apprentice quickly took to their task working as individual parts of the human machine that is The Forge. Artisans and apprentices sat at their respective benches making large quantities of whatever their given task was. The more experienced artisans worked on specific contracts to supply arms, armor, or even jewelry to specific patrons across the world. Today Ryba was making something special. Her son was about to come of age and start an apprenticeship. This was not going to be for a customer or for money. What she set her mind to today would be for her child and would be forever.
Stone Carvers of ages long past had crafted secret ways of crafting on every inch of the forge walls. Ryba had tried every single one of them. Some of them produced items of surpassing beauty for sure. Alloys of metals she would never have thought to combine on her own however at the end of the day they were always just exquisite examples of human handiwork. “Truth chiseled in stone lasts forever” the saying went. However not since the Great Exile had this forge produced a single Great Item. It may not be magic Ryba thought but it would be the best forge hammer she ever created. Into the crucible went a rare collection of ores, as dictated by the stone in front of her where they began to melt into one.
Without warning the forge sparked and what should have been controlled flame briefly roared to life as if fueled by an unknown outside source. Ryba set to tending to the apprentices first, making sure their were no injuries, then helping to save what items could be salvaged. Once she was confident that the forge had returned to working order she returned to the hammer for her son. The metal in the casing had already cooled and was ready to be shaped with more detail… that should have taken an hour at least. She stood before the Grand Anvil facing the stone instructions for what was called the “Heart of the Forge”. It must have been a trick of light from the forge coals but it looked to her as if the instructions before her were glowing a faint orange of their own. Rather than just following the instructions some instinct beyond her own skill moved her to grab one of her finer steel chisels and to begin carving the stone instructions directly onto the hammers face. With each chisel strike the words became clearer and when she was finally done the hammer itself seemed pulse with a soft orange heartbeat of it’s own. She did not realize the rest of the room had completely stopped working. All eyes were on her as she lifted the finished hammer from the anvil. It should still burn to touch and while the carvings glowed bright, while the hammer head itself quietly beat it remained warm to the touch. She did not know what had happened or how it had happened… but she knew. Magic had returned to the world.