Meet Juriah
As the son of a blacksmith Juriah grew strong, and at twenty standing at the forge with the reflection of the embers making his blue eyes glow orange, he faced the his biggest challenge to date. Today was the day he was to craft his family sword from the steel and fire that had forged him into the muscle rippled man he had become. Pulling the long black locks of hair that fell in ringlets on his shoulders, into a pony tail, keeping it out of sparks grasp, he hefted the steel blank from the adjacent barrel and using his tall frame he laid it on the bed of smoldering embers. With his other hand he reached to the anvil and grasped a large hammer, his favorite, the one that will start crafting this glowing rod of steel into the weapon that would shape his future in ways he could not imagine.
As a boy he would craft swords from sticks or whittle them down from lumber with an old hunting knife, waiting for this day, the day he would forge his own and take up arms for what ever life had in store.
With his fathers careful direction he began to hammer the glowing rod into the shape of a mighty blade, working it like a sculptor would clay the rigid properties of the steel became pliable and its shape was well defined. When he pulled it from the embers and cast it into the cooling barrel with a hiss of steam he beamed at his father, and his father looked on proudly as his son had created one of the finest blades he had ever seen.
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