As the forge fires dimmed for the evening, casting long shadows across the ancient stone walls of Khazadrim, Erend, Adrien, and Billy made their way back to their quarters.
The air was thick with the metallic scent of Starsteel and the residual heat of the day's intense labor. Their bodies ached, but there was a shared sense of accomplishment as they walked through the winding corridors.
Adrius and Saeldir had chosen to remain in the forge and using their expertise, continuing to oversee the intricate processes involved in perfecting their newly forged weapons.
The Sacred Hammer still rang out intermittently, echoing through the halls with a rhythm that spoke of the tireless dedication of the dwarves.
Finally reaching their rooms, Erend, Adrien, and Billy felt the weight of the day's efforts settle upon them. They exchanged weary but satisfied glances, each reflecting on the progress they had made. They placed their weapon on top of the table.