The forge was bigger than I expected, which was funny since I had seen a much bigger and high-tech forge.
"Heehehe, my very own forge~"
I had seen it from the doorway once before and decided I would appreciate it properly when the time came, but standing inside now, running my fingers along the cold edge of the primary anvil, I understood why Lothair had taken weeks to arrange its construction.
This was clearly not a hobby station.
It was a craftsman's entire life, folded into one massive chamber.
The book I had pulled from the library two days prior, a dense, oil-stained manual titled On The Cold Stone That Learned To Yield, had broken forging into seven core stations with twice that number of variations.
The heating station dominated the far end of the room, the furnace a massive circular-mouthed structure built from fire-resistant obsidian aggregate reinforced with interlocking magic circle arrays running along every seam.
