The hammer falls, flattening the steel. The steady beat of the blacksmith is heard distantly outside the forge, clink, clink, clink. He shoves the cooling metal back into the fire, his eyes, white against his soot covered face, staring into the blaze, watching as the piece glows, growing from black to orange to white. Again, it’s on the anvil, and his tireless arms work, forming the sword.
Soon, the time comes. He takes the blade and shoves it under the water. The bubbling froth spills over the trough as the steel hardens. He lifts the edge to his eye, straight.
Tale Told 
What’s not to like about that!?
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