A short and stout Drogar with rippling muscles and a large gut stood in front of an anvil. Although his facial spines were long and a little droopy, his scales were still taut on his body.
In one hand, he held a long bar with a glowing slab of metal at one end, which he laid down in the middle of the anvil. In his other hand was a small metal hammer that looked incredibly well-worn.
He adjusted the glowing slab and tapped it a couple of times with his hammer. The moment he moved his hammer away, the assistant by his side brought his two-handed sledge down on the glowing slab.
As the assistant struck it, the bladesmith adjusted the slab back and forth, left and right, centimeter by centimeter. Sparks and flecks of blackened metal fell away with each and every hit.
And at the same time, he kept his assistant’s pace by tapping lightly on the anvil with his hammer.