It'd been an interesting two days. As Koglan went about his forge sweeping and preparing for the day. With Siwa coming in almost daily for food, and staying for a time so that she and Koglan could talk. He enjoyed the company, it's no secret the old goblin spend alot of his time alone after all, and Siwa filled a void he didn't know he had.

But that's not all. The old Goblin smith had taken on a task, a quest almost, a crafting quest. To create knifes for a pair of goblins in the tribe who, by his eyes anyway, have earned his iron. so even as he sweeps and cleans making ready for the day to come and a new order from the chief, he stops and runs his hands over a pair of daggers on the workshop counter. They aren't paired but they very well could be. They could make a perfect paired weapons for some silly goblin warrior. But no, these knifes atleast to Koglan are new master works. Seven inch long blades, hilts long enough to fit the plam of a goblin easily and snugly, wrapped in cloth and leather, with a screaming mini goblin head on the pommel of the knifes. Straight backed with curved blades, perfect for cutting and slashing.

It's a pity he made them out of iron now that he thinks of it, they would have been prime for the steel. Ah well, next time.

As he sweeps the last of the dust and debris into either the fire or next to the door of the forge to be picked up later he nods, then waves down one of the young goblins who are walking by this early. He hands the young girl goblin an apple from his stores and smiles, "Here, I have an errand for you. Fetch me Hunter Griz and Young Brendan to me. Tell them Koglan Ironweaver the Smith has something for them. Do not take no for an answer. They must come." He nods and motions for her to go.

The old braided smith grins, then goes and covers the knifes with a length of dark cloth. Then goes to his forge. Moments later there's a [i]thwump-thwump-thwump[/i] which is followed by the [i]roar[/i] of flames as the forge comes back to life. Coals heating and the raging fire within the forge seeming to growl in joy at the work to come.

[@Searat][@Aristocles]