The clamor of the HeartForge roared anew as Branthor's group reemerged into its open expanse, the deafening rhythm of hammers, the rumbling of molten rivers, and the low hymn of chanting smiths filling the ears of all the students once more.
After the oppressive silence of the Scrapped Armory, the return to that living heat was almost overwhelming.
Zeus stretched his arms, shaking off the lingering chill from the chamber. "I'll take that tour any day," he said with a wide grin, "But I'm itching to hit something that isn't a pile of dead swords."
Branthor laughed heartily, his voice echoing across the halls like a rolling avalanche, "Then you're in luck, boy. This way."
He led them down a winding path that descended into a vast, open hall carved into the volcanic bedrock, a testing arena.
