Aster didn't need to announce where they were. From a distance, as they walked closer, Northern could already hear the crude clangor of metals frivolously ripping the air apart.
As they approached the smithy, the first thing he noticed was its sheer scale. The building stood like a fortress of industry, its walls constructed from dark stone that bore the marks of time and countless fiery battles.
Massive oregon iron beams reinforced the structure, their rivets glowing faintly as if imbued with latent heat. The roof, a sweeping dome of the same oregon metal but more blackened than the beams, caught the sunlight, reflecting it in golden flashes where it wasn't dulled by soot.
A towering chimney pierced the sky, belching columns of smoke that mingled with the low-hanging clouds, announcing the forge's activity against the backdrop of the mountain and wildlife.
