"Heating, quenching, heating, fusing, quenching, heating, refinging, heating, tempering, quenching, hilt-mounting." The steam-covered blade was quickly concealed as the half-elf sheathed it. His left eye glowed from the recent use of magic, it was a curse, and a blessing. The glowing eye tended to attract unwanted attention, however the two responses were to flee or approach him. The latter proved more troublesome.<br/><br/>Vrael placed the sheath on a hook on the wall, eyeing the array of his handiwork throughout the past fortnight. He resided deep within the forest, far from the prying eyes of mortals to practice his trade. Those who seeked these finely-wrought blades had to either sieze the chance whenever he was infrequently manning a makeshift stall inside the city. Shouts attracted his attention, forcing him to tear his gaze away from the swords. He strode out of the forge, grabbing Wintersteel from its resting place.<br/><br/>The clearing outside was to say, calming, a small steam ran straight through the center, filling a small circular pool where Vrael gathered water for his activities. However, that was all missed by Vrael marched towards the origin of the shouts. Small folds in the veridian grass showed that a large footed man had traveled past, carrying a load. He followed the tracks, his feet moving lightly across the grass, before catching sight of a man with an elven lady slung over his back.<br/><br/>Vrael coughed loudly, gaining both their attention, "It seems to me that the lady does not wish to be manhandled. Would you like to put her down?" He allowed both his hands to stray onto the handle of the katana and its sheath, preparing to execute an Iai.<br/><br/>(Note: Iaido is the art of drawing a sword and killing them in a single movement.)