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Date Posted: 10:58:26 05/21/02 Tue
Author: Dore'nan
Subject: A male elf walks in, tall and silent.

He sees a empty forge in the corner, no remnants of a fire are left below it, but the placing is perfect and is worth the trouble. He glides over to it and takes some of the stocked wood piling it for the most intense heat, he then pulls out some special paper and his nifty piece of flint. He strikes a rock onto the paper and sparks fly onto it, and he blows calmly onto it. A fire is blazing in moments. He pumps air onto it and adds wood and charcoal to it until he backs off, satisfied. He rolls up the sleeves of his dirty brown shirt and begins his work.

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