Warstag strutted into her smithy, eagerness in every graceful movement. She didn�t mind the foreboding dark that blanketed the small room. Striping off her jacket, gloves, and shirt. Leaving only her under vest.
With quick efficient movements she set fire to the dusty black rock that was one of the trolls many secrets. As the black rocks started to glow, chasing away the dank shadows that clung to the rock walls, it also light up her face. As her eyes reflected the light and the blood red glow spread across her face, she truly looked like the demons humans called them.
Turning reluctantly from the hungry flame she pulled several metal rods out of a barrel and placed them in the forge to heat. Leaving the flame to turn the hard metal into a cherry red branch of fire, she gathered up her well used hammer and tongs. Using the tongues to grasp the heated metal and set it on the anvil making sure to keep a hold of the metal with said tongues. Swinging the hammer with a large smooth stroke hit the metal with a harsh clang. This was true troll art! No amount of magic could ever measure up to this feeling of power. The muscles hard and supple from years of hard work, rippling in the patterns that habit made for them.
As she worked her mind drifted to the ones who taught her this wondrous skill. When the trolls still fought the elves as enemies and she was still a cub they kidnapped her, she was the chieftess� cub they could get a lot for her. They didn�t expect her to sneak out of her cell and instead of running away she found her way to the smithy and started mimicking the trolls at work there.
This intrigued the trolls out of curiosity they taught the curious cub the tricks of the trade and found her a quick learner. The trolls learned something as well, the elves could get them things that they needed in trade instead of war. With a few cautious talks and the return of a cub completely unharmed, peace was off to a shaky start.
Warstag stuck to her smiting lessons and soon was a master. It was in the troll caves that she learned of her magic as well.
After her mother�s death she found the troll caves to be a safe haven from her dueling siblings. When she decided to leave the troll caves where one of the things she would miss the most.
Warstag stood back from the anvil and wiped some sweat from her brow and threw the now sword blade into a large bucket of water. Putting out the flame she walked out of the room as the dark reclaimed it and her memories of the past. She had a future to look forward too.