Gods and mortals

An unwelcomed event

A.N.
And on we go...

Nidavellir...

Brogr had to briefly close his eyes due to the intense light that blinded him. The main forge of Nidavellir was active once more, raw cosmic energy seeping from the dying star and into the power canals that were constructed around the ring of it.

Inevitably, some of that immense power was diverted towards his station, and the young apprentice watched as that flaming orange beam traveled through the awaiting conducts, before lighting up the heater underneath the metal cauldron.

He peered down into the large container, attentively observing as the bottom of it began to turn a hot red hue, as the beautiful careers and symmetrically shaped uru ingots began to hiss at the contact with the heat, steam rising from them.

It was then that Brogr adverted his gaze, knowing that it could potentially damage his eyes if he were to stare at the melting material too much.

Beside him, Brokkr and Kramnor analyzed his movements with a critical eye, making sure to see if he was properly following their instructions. The asgardian had to wait now, wait until the uru melted completely and then he could finally do what he wished to do.

The time that it was going to take for this to happen would be noticeably longer than what it otherwise should have. This was because the two master blacksmiths had made sure that this particular smithy only received a fraction of the celestial object's true power. This was done so to replicate the conditions that he would have with his own forge.

Of course, the process would be harder to complete than what it would have been had be used a more potent quantity of the energy.

But for the time being, he would have to simply resign himself and work with the tolls that had been provided to him.

After waiting for nearly twenty minutes, the uru had liquified, and Brogr could continue on with his task. He got behind a cog that was placed next to the container and that controlled its pitch forward.

The young lad gently pushed against the cog: this was perhaps the most delicate part of the entire build, as he had to balance out the speed with which the molten uru would fill the empty cavity of the mold.

If he filled it too quickly, then he would risk breaking the mold with the stark contrast and the abrupt change of temperature which would crack the durable yet fragile stone.
And similarly, he could not afford to fill the mold too slowly, as the uru would quickly loose its heat, thus rendering it incapable of being worked.

His movements were steady and full with hope, wanting his creation to be perfect, to surpass himself in his skills and become better.

As the last small rivers of molten metal fell into the hole, Brogr moved to stand in front of the mold. He armed himself with a large axle like bar, its end being shaped into a particular set of curled triangles.

When the dwarven runes on the mold began to faintly glow, the asgardian placed the staff into each of the four locked corners of the mold, twisting them until he heard an audible click and a subsequent thump as the locks feel free of the mold and onto the table.

It was looking good, and if he had done everything correctly then now he would be able to finish assembling the weapon. He had already prepared the other things that he would need for his build, and they were placed in an organized manner on the table to his immediate right.

With a heavy metal stake and an equally heavy hammer, Brogr pushed the stake against the round opening of the mold, from which the uru had entered. He slammed the hammer on the top of it, and cracks echoed out onto the surface of the stone object.