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A path to perfection


Crevann
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Any image used as a reference is not a complete accurate representation of what is described.

Anghkul

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Spirit of Metal Refinement

[Under Kulthark]

 

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The young smith found herself in darkness. With no clue of her whereabouts, no clue of what could happen, her only anchor to reality being her mentor in front of her, tt wouldn’t take much however, that a loud roar of flames lights up their surroundings with a reddish color, the smith’s vision blurred for a moment, as the place is revealed.

 

Tink, tink, tink.

 

The constant sound of tireless blacksmiths hammering with precision against heated metal filled the air, together with an extreme heat, unbearable. Molten magma flowed from wide channels, aiding their unstoppable crafts. A gargantuan forge, bigger than most cities, that’s the place they ended up visiting, entirely made of metal and ores, but for the elfess smith that felt like home, she couldn’t hide her excitement and curiousity, guided by her mentor, until…

 

“IZG ZAUG'AANGHUM TURKÛRZ DULUG”

 

A booming voice struck them as they approached an immense tower, shaking the elfess soul with that ancient tongue, unknown to her. Before them, a colossus of a humanoid completely made of raw ores, featureless and with no recognizable body form. Various hammers held by tendrils that constantly smithed onto anvils, creating artifacts upon artifacts.

The mentor translated to the young smith: “It speaks of finding the perfect artifact; the perfect creation. Step forward, my student. See it with yourself, I shall only be your translator.”

 

Tink, tink, tink.

 

The spirit glared towards the duo, stretching forward towards them, unnaturally, yet they didn’t stop their craft. His featureless gaze fixed upon the young smith, it inquired in that same ancient tongue he spoke, translated:

 

“WHAT ARE YOU?”

 

For a moment, the elfess is filled with awe, was that… fear? For just a moment, there was just the constant sound of a thousand smiths, the crackling flames of the forge, the molten metals slowly moving towards the furnaces… But the young smith couldn’t let this moment go in vain, there was no place for fear, she shrugged it off, and so she spoke, fearless:

 

“Hello!”

 

The young elfess greeted with simplicity, as if the spirit was an equal to her, a booming chuckle resonated within the forge… But still the smith did not falter, she introduced herself, catching the spirit’s interest:

 

“ANGHKUL”

 

The spirit told their name to the smith, and so they spoke. They found their common goal, a quest for perfection, a path of constant improvement, seeking the perfect alloy, and the perfect weapons. An agreement was found, and a pact was made.

 

Tink, tink, tink.

 

The elfess was encased in molten metal, becoming a statue, a process so painful she couldn’t even scream, but she accepted that, she did not resist. She felt a deeper connection into her soul, she was now bound to the spirit, she was accepted.
 

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A Elder smiled upon one of the first Ranaleth shamans! She looked forward to see where this young smith's path will take her to.

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A sister made way, eager to request her ceremonial bone shard from the master smith; should they be willing?

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