Bajötvár CH1

Chapter 1
Istvárok gazed over at the furnace, he sighed at the thought of the work
ahead of him late this night. The setup for the forging of his new invention had been arduous to put it lightly. First he had to hike up bajötszikla, the near mythical brown rock crag his workshop was perched upon, to cut down the densespruce that thickly populated near the tree line. The densespruce was the only material any self respecting half-dwarf smith would make his charcoal from. It not only burnt hot, but burnt evenly for the many hours the pieces needed to be lit for smithing. Next, on the altogether too long list for the construction of a mere prototype, was to set up a large enough, wide enough, tall enough, hot enough (I think you get the idea) furnace for the heating of so much iron at once.
The smith got off his meager cot in the corner of his workshop and
mentally prepared himself for the minimum of 8 hours of prep work that he was about to take a blind run at, knowing at any point he could mess up and be forced to melt down the frame and start over on his project.
“Kitakör” He bellowed, “run down to the village and tell the mine
overseer to send up 2 wagons of black iron ore whenever he next is able. Oh! And take this.” He added, in a moment of epiphany that to do such an act would cost more than nice words, throwing a purse of fernï to his apprentice.
“Yes, Istvárok.” replied Kitakör, “but can you at least tell me what it is
you're making. It must be terribly interesting for you to have taken such meticulous steps in preparing your workshop for the creation such an item.”
“You will see,” he said, “when I am finished.”

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