[b]"By the gods... it's an ancient forge!"[/b] Ursaren scrambled into the area giddily, pulling out his notebook and sketching out every minute detail. The hammers. The rock islands. The forge itself. Everything! It was remarkable to the old man. [b]"This must have been here for centuries!"[/b] The elderly man removed the upper part of his outfit, leaving on his trousers and revealing very well-toned (and slightly hairy) muscles from underneath. A large gash coated the upper right part of his pectoral, so he had to heal that away. He would've done it earlier, but there wasn't a good enough stopping point to do so. Plus, maybe some of the forge would rub off on him and improve him in some way.

A golden light surrounded Ursaren's wound as it slowly mended itself back together, the skin weaving itself like it was nothing more than a straw basket and eventually spreading over the wound like an artist would smudge his work to add effects. It was grossly interesting to watch, actually. It was like something straight out of a necromancers tower, although instead of melting flesh off, it was melting flesh to mend... as weird as that sounded.

[b]"Do you think that anything is left here, comrades?"[/b]