the large bellows, causing the fire to burn hotter still. The mallet fell and sparks flew. Roakore dunked the pointed bolt into the water troth, causing it to hiss and steam. He pulled it out and inspected his work. The bolt was made of hardened steel and had been fitted to slide into the arm that he had built.
The contraption was a gift for Helzendar—an arm of steel with working joints that he would be able to control with his mind. The long, thin, pointed bolt clicked into place within the forearm. With but a thought, Helzendar would be able to extend it out through the fist and just as easily retract it.
Satisfied with the results of the forging, Roakore brought the steel arm and many gems and supplies up to his moon tower, just above Silverwind’s perch at the peak of the mountain. He preferred doing his gem work by the light of the full moon, which had a magic all its own.
Roakore laid the steel fist on a raised dais and carefully placed his selected gems there as well. Opening a rolled-up cloth, he took out his small tools and set about the task. He carved ancient runes into the shaft of the forearm, and the hand and fingers as well. He lined them with liquid silver and summoned wind to speed the cooling. When the silver had set, he smoothed the grooves and edges. Diamonds, rubies, and sapphires he placed on the arm as well. He did so sparingly, adding them only to the joints of the wrist, knuckles, and fingers, where a housing had been fashioned.
By the time he had completed his task, the sun was beginning to peer over the distant mountain peaks. Roakore took one last look at his finished work and smiled to himself. He could hardly wait to present it to his son.
Helzendar arrived at his father’s chambers a few minutes late. He had been practicing with his new abilities and had lost track of time.
“Come in, come in,” Roakore said excitedly when Helzendar knocked on the door.
“Sorry I be a little late, Father.”
“Never mind that, come on over here. I’ve got something for you.”
Curious, Helzendar walked over to his father’s large desk by a big window overlooking the mountain range. Roakore pushed a fine oak box forward, a bright smile spreading across his bearded face.
“What’s this?” Helzendar asked, lifting it slightly to test the weight.
“Somethin’ I made ye. A gift. Go on. Open it up.”
Helzendar unlatched the lid and pulled it open slowly. A velvety cloth was laid over an object. Roakore was practically dancing with anticipation by now.
“Ye got me a towel?” Helzendar teased.
“Haha, ye smart arse. Go on, pull it back.”
Helzendar did so, and all levity left his face. He stared at the beautiful steel arm with wonderment, and a slow tear found his eye, which he quickly wiped away. With a trembling hand he pulled the arm from its cradle in the box. “This is amazin’, Father. Thank ye.”
“Ye be welcome, lad.”
“You think…you think I can control it like me own arm?” Helzendar asked.
Roakore gave a laugh. “That be the idea. Here, try it on.”
He took the arm from Helzendar, and the young dwarf removed his jacket and undershirt, exposing his metal-capped stump. With help from Roakore, he fitted the arm on the stump and it clicked into place with a twist.
“What do ye think?” Roakore asked.
“It’s great.”
“Comfortable?”
“Aye, it be a nice fit.”
“Now, I be thinkin’ that ye can move the wrist and fingers just like ye be movin’ anything else. Go on and try it out. Can ye move the fingers?”
Helzendar focused on the steel digits, mentally willing them to move. They did so without so much as a creek, but they moved erratically, mechanically.
“Hah!” Roakore yelled and slapped his knee. “What did I tell ye?”
“This be amazin’,” Helzendar declared.
“Aye, try grabbin’ hold o’ somethin’.” Roakore looked around the room. “That there whiskey bottle, hand it to me if ye can.”
Helzendar leaned over and put
The contraption was a gift for Helzendar—an arm of steel with working joints that he would be able to control with his mind. The long, thin, pointed bolt clicked into place within the forearm. With but a thought, Helzendar would be able to extend it out through the fist and just as easily retract it.
Satisfied with the results of the forging, Roakore brought the steel arm and many gems and supplies up to his moon tower, just above Silverwind’s perch at the peak of the mountain. He preferred doing his gem work by the light of the full moon, which had a magic all its own.
Roakore laid the steel fist on a raised dais and carefully placed his selected gems there as well. Opening a rolled-up cloth, he took out his small tools and set about the task. He carved ancient runes into the shaft of the forearm, and the hand and fingers as well. He lined them with liquid silver and summoned wind to speed the cooling. When the silver had set, he smoothed the grooves and edges. Diamonds, rubies, and sapphires he placed on the arm as well. He did so sparingly, adding them only to the joints of the wrist, knuckles, and fingers, where a housing had been fashioned.
By the time he had completed his task, the sun was beginning to peer over the distant mountain peaks. Roakore took one last look at his finished work and smiled to himself. He could hardly wait to present it to his son.
Helzendar arrived at his father’s chambers a few minutes late. He had been practicing with his new abilities and had lost track of time.
“Come in, come in,” Roakore said excitedly when Helzendar knocked on the door.
“Sorry I be a little late, Father.”
“Never mind that, come on over here. I’ve got something for you.”
Curious, Helzendar walked over to his father’s large desk by a big window overlooking the mountain range. Roakore pushed a fine oak box forward, a bright smile spreading across his bearded face.
“What’s this?” Helzendar asked, lifting it slightly to test the weight.
“Somethin’ I made ye. A gift. Go on. Open it up.”
Helzendar unlatched the lid and pulled it open slowly. A velvety cloth was laid over an object. Roakore was practically dancing with anticipation by now.
“Ye got me a towel?” Helzendar teased.
“Haha, ye smart arse. Go on, pull it back.”
Helzendar did so, and all levity left his face. He stared at the beautiful steel arm with wonderment, and a slow tear found his eye, which he quickly wiped away. With a trembling hand he pulled the arm from its cradle in the box. “This is amazin’, Father. Thank ye.”
“Ye be welcome, lad.”
“You think…you think I can control it like me own arm?” Helzendar asked.
Roakore gave a laugh. “That be the idea. Here, try it on.”
He took the arm from Helzendar, and the young dwarf removed his jacket and undershirt, exposing his metal-capped stump. With help from Roakore, he fitted the arm on the stump and it clicked into place with a twist.
“What do ye think?” Roakore asked.
“It’s great.”
“Comfortable?”
“Aye, it be a nice fit.”
“Now, I be thinkin’ that ye can move the wrist and fingers just like ye be movin’ anything else. Go on and try it out. Can ye move the fingers?”
Helzendar focused on the steel digits, mentally willing them to move. They did so without so much as a creek, but they moved erratically, mechanically.
“Hah!” Roakore yelled and slapped his knee. “What did I tell ye?”
“This be amazin’,” Helzendar declared.
“Aye, try grabbin’ hold o’ somethin’.” Roakore looked around the room. “That there whiskey bottle, hand it to me if ye can.”
Helzendar leaned over and put
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