A day at the forge. Random prompt
For the first time in a long while, Arandoros Sunforge had nothing out of the ordinary on his mind. Nothing at all. No wars that threatened the lives of close friends, no leaders suddenly arrested for charges that may or may not be true. Nobody close to him was ill or troubled, as far as he could tell, and any sickness that had been lingering was on its way out. This allowed him to focus on his work fully and completely for the first time in months.
He woke before the dawn as he preferred, and for once he hadn’t passed out in his rocking chair in the living room. After getting himself shaved, bathed and ready to go, he made his way to the Blackened Woods. Specifically, to Silvercrest Manor, where now was located the new Sunforge Steel. The original was still housed within the walls of Silvermoon under a different name and new management, though he shared the profits as he still owned the property. Besides, the proprietor of his Silvermoon location was Aran’s apprentice.
Once Arandoros arrived at the manor, he made his way into the forge, breathing deep. Ahh, the smell of progress. His workers had already begun the day’s orders, and as always Eliot had a full list of things, and then some. Everything was going rather well at this point. Despite a rocky transition, production was smooth and at least three times the rate he could manage with just him and Bem back in Silvermoon. He had at least ten assistants on a daily basis, all as skilled or better at certain things than Bem was, but none had a high skill in everything the way his apprentice did. None of them were a Jack of all Trades, as he’d heard a human say once many years ago.
Checking in at each individual workstation, eventually he made his way to the primary forge-and-anvil. It was at center stage, the largest and likely most pure of all the fires within the building. He set his nose to the grindstone right away, continuing work on a longblade he’d started a few days prior.
Once that was done, and a few other pieces ready to be passed down the line to his workers, it was lunchtime. A bench outside the forge was where he perched himself, Pandaren cuisine going down his gullet and a sketchpad used to pass the time. He didn’t take overly long breaks–no longer than his employees did, in fact–, but he made the most of the ones he allowed himself.
Once lunch was over he returned inside, and because he was working so hard and focused solely on the task at hand, it took awhile to realize…hours had passed. The only sounds in the forge were his own, and when he glanced outside the darkness had begun to creep in. “Huh,” he said, mildly surprised. “Been awhile since I lost track of time that severely.” Shrugging, he went back to work, determined to leave nothing unfinished that day.
By the time he was done, the moon was high in the sky and the air had taken a chill. His steed carried him north to Silvermoon and, after a short stop to deliver a gift to Miss Sunspell, he made his way home.
Just another day at the office.
[ naivaria and eliotsilvercrest for mentions. ]
