<span style="font-size: 110%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-indent:1em;">By the time, the mage returned to the tent, Ragnar had switched into a sleeveless under tunic and was covered in sweat from the ruthless heat emitted from the coals. He was sitting down, polishing and making the last repairs on a simple one handed sword. The sword was going to be the last one for the night, he decided, considering he could now barely stay awake. He was beyond exhausted. The unexpected voice instantly alerted the brute as he looked up at Merlin. "Simple, you give two black smithing lovers a mountain of metal to work, no disruptions, and a couple of other people to get supplies. What do you expect?" He answered with a laugh. "But no, in reality, it seems quicker because we are just repairing weapons instead of making some from scratch and it's nothing fancy." He held up the sword in his hand, it has a basic design in the guard and blade with a simple leather wrapped handle.</div></span><br/><br/><br/>Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk