A hiss fills the air, as the vat of oil that Koglan stands beside begins to bubble and roil. The fire of his forge flares red as the billows give one more hiss. And soon he pulls the axe head from the oil quench and lifts it high for those who have come to watch, a few men, women and the children, to see the finished product. He hums lays the axe head to the top of his anvil and with abit of a flourish as the old goblin is enjoying the attention he takes a file to the edge of it. And with a grin on his face he listens as the file sings against what will be the edge. He steps back, "And tomorrow I work on the handle." He crosses his arms across his chest, the sweat of his work trinkling down his arms, what can be seen of his chest and down his broad back. He looks around at those gathered, "One day I may make something like for one of you. A head shaman, a new warrior. With hope I am alive and you prove yourself worthy of my iron. Or." He gestures to the precious ingots of steel stacked against the wall. Ten pristine ingots of steel he had procured three years ago from a human trader for the price of four months of work for several iron swords made in the goblin way for some scheme the man had. They rested there waiting to be used. He hums, "Or perhaps you will do something unlike any other, and earn my steel."

The goblins having enjoyed the show begin to leave, a few of the girls lingering for abit trying to catch the old goblins eye. Sure he's old for a goblin, but he's still virile as they know. He's sired no less then ten children through out his life. But Koglan does not seem to be of the wooing mind. They leave.

He's turning spotting Brendan at the door, the young hunter, he knows him he's seen him about. He gives the young goblin a nod. And also ther ebeside Brendan, Vos. Koglan gives him a nod in greeting as well. Koglan very nearly turns away then, when he notices someone approaching. He turns again and narrows his eyes abit, "Siwa." He says, his voice strong despite his years, as strong as those great arms crossed over his chest, "What brings you into my forge young goblin?" The fire behind him outlines the old goblin's body in red as he stands there, "Come to look, come to petition me for something maybe?" He looks to Brendan and Vos, "How about you two? Or are you just here to gawk?" He turns and motions to the three, "Come." He heads for his kitchen area, on the far side of his forge. And sits at his table, waiting for the three to join him.