The musical sound of a hammer striking metal rung out from the smoothed boulder that was Kaze's home. The large man was pounding a nice iron ingot into the shape of an axe. The metal shifted by tongs from the face to the horn to make the beard of the heavy axe. The hammer struck the red hot metal, shaping it easily. Getting the curve just the way he wanted it he stuffed the metal back into the burning coals. His tongs snagged another piece of metal, the makings of a dagger, and laid that on the anvils table. Using the table allowed him to clean up the edge for where the cross-guard would sit before he slid the whole thing into some cool sand.

Setting down the hammer Kaze curved his back, making it crack loudly, as he exhaled a waft of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. The other corner holding onto a cigar, the source of the smoke. [color=red]"Damn slow days..."[/color] He muttered to himself. He was only making things to keep himself occupied since the delay of the Festival. Sure he could go hunt the monsters loitering about the place but there was a Guild here. Why have them if they didn't do something? He'd let them do their jobs considering they ordered enough gear from him.

Sighing he set back to work, pulling the head of the axe from the forge he set it back to the horn. Picking up a heavier hammer he started to pound it onto the pointed portion of the horn, making a hole through it for where the haft would be when he made it. The crude hole was made, and with a tap the head was off the horn. Reaching down he picked up an oval rod and stuck it in the hardie hole. He slid the head onto it and started to pound it into a proper smoothed shape. Sliding it off with a tap of the hammer he had the metal back in the forge fires to harden it. All that hammering was ringing out to the surrounding forest. The dwarf actually living outside of town and in the woods where beginners started their wanderings. Normally a bunch of kids growing up from the town.

He was about to take up the dagger to sharpen it, but something thudded outside. [color=red]"If those damned orcs are back I'm gonna rip off their faces..."[/color] He growled as he undid the leather apron and set it on the anvil. His hand went to his belt and he pulled up a strange looking weapon. It looked like a hammer, but on the back side was a rather large pick with a blade on its underside. What he called a warpick. Shouldering open his door the burly man looked around, but didn't see anything. Scratching his beard the large mans eyes were narrowed. [color=red]"Maybe I'm starting to hear things..."[/color] He muttered to himself as he went back in. He was living in a boulder at the bottom of a large hill, something probably tumbled down. Nature made noises after all.