“Be me axe ready?!” Cry Akatosh in Excitement.

At the heart of Thuram’s forgery, the atmosphere was intense to Akatosh sight. Thundering echoes of large hammers pounders his ears, there Akatosh can tell by the sight that it was propels through magic and dwarven technologies. Even with the potion of fire resistance that was given to him in advance, he can feel the vibrant sear of fire as the large foundries pours the molten mix of minerals. And at the same time when the heat was too much to take, the large pipes that spread around the forgery quickly sucks out the heat and emission at the same time it pumps in cold fresh air. Awe, not only its function that gather’s one interest but its size, he can determine that it was ten meters in diameter.

Akatosh learns that dwarfs are high resistance to fire and freezing temperatures but, to see it with his own eyes, how the dwarfs would brush the heat like nothing without using any magic protection and potions really bewilders to his new given world.

While being led through the vast forgery, not only magic and technologies involve but also golems with different roles assigned to them. From his gathered knowledge there are four types of golems, the runic golems, the elemental golems, the dwarven made and the astrals. And in this place two were present, the dwarven made and runic golem.

Upon observing the two varieties of golems, runic golems were task in guarding the place. Standing around seven meters tall, their body consist of pure stone carved in dwarven design. Bulky and the most intriguing part was, there were no heads to be seen however through the center of its chest lies a pulsating blue core. For closer inspection, the brachium and femur of the golems has different design. Unlike its outer layer covered in dwarven, the one that connects the body have a root-like pattern. When passing one of them, Akatosh felt the vibrating energy stimulating his skin.

For the dwarven golem, compared to the runic ones their size is much larger and bulkier. Not only through size but they are made of pure dwarven cold metal, a material that close to rival the elven-steel or also known as Shirvia’s gift. A glance shows that their head is the same size of a dwarven height and design similar to a ‘great helm’, a medieval helmet so to say. Massive and a force to be reckon, their movements would quake the ground as they haul massive amounts of materials and blocks of metals.

New to one’s sight, Akatosh was too absorbed from his new experience. He had seen the industrial machines from his past life but, for this kind of experience was undoubtfully perplexes his lust of cutting-edge.

Approaching deeper, his guide then leads him to where priceless weapons and items are made. By the words of the dwarfs, he was the eleventh outsider to enter a significant place and being the fourth person to gain the trust of the dwarven king. How he achieves a certitude with the dwarves was him joining expeditions and conquest throughout the deep forgotten kingdom of dwarven ancestors, deeper as the roots of the world tree. It was Amaragnum’s knowledge and Akatosh action that helps the expedition achieve such enticing feat. Lowering the death rate, increasing their progression and in return Amaragnum gets what he needs, a fuel that keeps him running.

“Tell ye what, wi'out your help, we wouldn't have reached that cursed place in a short amount o' time. Our lads may finally find amendments from our fallen brothers an' sisters.” Says Akatosh guide initiating a conversation as they travers the forgery.

“I… I’m glad I could help, just-just keep to our promises.” Akatosh respond

“Ye sure? almost every hero that i've heard o' have their names been song throughout tha lands with their deeds an' valor. Ye me brother be quite tha opposite one.”

“Fame and glory of one’s name is hard to keep, for it comes with a price. Well, it might befit others but It’s not my thing.” Akatosh reply, “Especially when you have a historical maniac and being one of the most wanted man.” He continues but only through his thought.

“Indeed, people like tha thrills o' gaining reputation. True ta ye, our cousins from Dolvathur an' Kolvathur be setting their interest from our successful past expedition... But nae ta worry, when we keep our promise, it'll be as strong as tha strongest shield ye can find.”

“Thanks then.”

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“Dinna be too affectionate, it's our thing as a dwarf… Oh an' look we've reached our destination. It’s up to ya now lad, ya can call one of the apprentices to lead ya back.”

“See you around then.”

At the entrance of the forge, was a two colossal statue of dwarves both holding an axe as they face in opposite direction. In between the two statue was the entrance guarded by two runic golems glowing in red color different to the blue runic golem. The place was large and tall, and inside were five dwarves busy forging. For the forgemaster he was busy instructing the four-apprentice left and right as he blasted his shouts at them.

“Don't just hammer that damn thing! Use your gift that ain't a simple metal, you blockhead!” Shouts the forgemaster intently looking at his apprentice. “Blasted one! I told ya ta use only six powders nae eight now ya going ta have ta add more metal!” He continues at the second one who’s busy on the smelter.

“Forgemaster!” Cry Akatosh in excitement. “Be me axe ready?”

“Took ya long enough, follow me then.” A quick respond coming from the dwarf.

A couple of step lies a case a height of five meters, a width measuring only fifty centimeters as for the thickness he can tell it was eight inches. Ornamented in gold and layered with eccentric dwarven design.

When the weapon was shown Akatosh is smeared in awe, his ax was made in pure dwarven metal. A two-handed weapon, the axe’s head was shaped in crescent form like an eagle’s head where its beak is the blade. And on the opposite side was a spike seven inches long like that of a pickaxe. For the handle, near the head of the axe was flatten but the handle is round. The sleek part was it had an added pattern from every part of the axe, a dwarven design at that.

“I tell ya what when I finished this weapon of yours… what do ya called this thing again from your land?”

“It’s an igorot head hunting axe.”

“Right, this one be scary thing ta whack someone else head… care ta hold it?”

“Well certainly.” Says Akatosh quickly grabbing the weapon but when the dwarf releases the handle, Akatosh quickly felt the mass of the weapon. Unable to hold the ax, he quickly relinquished it. He tried to pick it up yet, it was like picking a two hundred kilograms of pure metal.

The forgemaster chuckles, “C’mon pick up some muscle young lad.”

“I’m trying.” Akatosh replies but he was only able to lift it up for the harder part was swinging. The forge master laughs when he saw Akatosh’s face ready to take a toilet.

“Let me help ya a bit.” Says the forgemaster, easily holding the heavy ax using only one hand. For Akatosh, his eyes were poking out unable to blink, stupefied at that. “It’s not yet done, what it needs is an enchantment, follow me.”

Akatosh bids by foragemaster’s words and they headed to another room a bit far from the forgery. When arrive, the place they went is far different from the dwarven forge. The venue had plants, shelves and books at every corner. On the center lies an altar made of stone, ancient, remarkable as hundreds of glowing orbs swirls around at its top.

“Where’s that damn enchanter!” Forgemaster cry.

“You called?” A sudden voice Implores, Akatosh turns to where the voice came but he only saw a slight silhouette before disappearing. “Look here.” Akatosh swing his head to see a person in gray robes.

“An Elf?” Akatosh says, when the person unhoods revealing a handsome elf in raven long hair and quite tall.

“Care to put some magic?” Forgemaster implores extending the axe towards the elf.

The elf already saw what the dwarf is planning so he goes towards the altar. “Bring that thing here.”

“You’re no fun.” The dwarf says placing the weapon on the altar.

Akatosh blink and in seconds the elf was facing him. “Your hand please.”

Akatosh extend his hand, suddenly the elf with a swift of his finger flicks a ghost blade cutting the human's hand. Blood oozes from his hand but the pain was nothing to Akatosh feeling, furthermore his blood was drawn from the elf’s hand creating an orb of his blood.

Taking only ten seconds of extracting, the traveler's wounds was healed in seconds not even a scar was left. Sigh the elf and slowly goes towards the altar as Akatosh’s blood in spheric form follows him. Now only a few inches from the altar, the elf conjures four spheres. An orb of stone, an ice, a lava, and a cloud emitting lightning.

Commanding, the elf’s hand lifts the four orbs and so too was Akatosh’s blood. Dancing in seconds Akatosh's blood merges with the lightning orb.

“Oh… now that’s a fine one.” The forgemaster says.

Once Akatosh’s blood merge with the orb, the elf brought it down. While still on his palm, he places it atop of the axe then when he raises his right arm, a blue ghost of an ancient elf appears holding a hammer it follows the enchanter’s movement.

Smashing the orb, a bright light flash at the epicenter blinding Akatosh. Seconds of recovering his humming sight, he saw his axe levitating as it produces pure lightning plasma. Now with an enchantment place the elf easily without effort single handedly holds the weapon.

Yielding the weapon at Akatosh, he couldn’t help his shaking hands. The moment t his hand grabs the handle he felt the surge of the storm giant’s strength cursing through his body. He now shares the aspect of a storm giant. The axe from before was now light as a stick, and every enchantment the axe received was tingling his body, his brain, his senses all was known

“Ventawan…” says the elf as he blows blue dust at the axe. “My work is done.” He continues walking away and slowly disappearing.