He started with the forge itself. Reaching for a large shovel nearby, he scooped glowing coals from a smoldering pile, his orcish strength barely making the task manageable. The heat radiating from the coals was almost unbearable, but he dumped them into the hearth with care, ensuring the forge's belly was filled. The roar of the fire intensified, and the flames licked greedily at the air as he pumped the bellows. Each push sent a rush of oxygen into the fire, feeding it until it burned a vivid orange, hot enough to soften the iron ingots resting on the anvil.