The hours spent at the forge had been long and laborious. It was only to eat and sleep that he let himself stop from his task. Combining the powers of earth, wind, fire, and water with the enchanted moonsilver and dragonite alloy. On their own, both metals were near indestructible but together, they would be a formidable weapon indeed. The elemental powers fusing the metals with the proper energies so that the alloy would be strengthened a hundred times over.
That was just the beginning of the task. Next came the cutting of the mold. For a weapon of this power, a simple stone basin would never have done at all, nor a die cast. The weapon charged to him required the fires of hell itself to heat and infuse with the molding. Trapping an elder efreet from the City of Brass had been no easy task, but its Outsider blood burned at the needed temperature with the right magicks. Not to mention, having bested the Outsider, it was now bound to him for all time. Bound to protect him and the mundane manifestation of the creature hung on a peg against the wall in the form of brass falchion.
If his course were not the proper one, Sylus may have felt disgusted with himself. However, he could ill afford to bother with such self-deprecation. With the efreeti fires keeping the metal hot, he could now work on the weapon mold. All the while a great number of sorceries swirled in the storm clouds above the Keep, each crack of lighting and each roar of thunder resounding with ancient power.
The mold required to forge a weapon with the power to break magical bonds that had held strong for so many a millenia had to be made from the bones of the dragon which created the chains. The Dragon's Graveyard was a place not meant to be tread by anything other than those of draconic descent. It was a good thing then that Chimara was made with a gargantuan platinum and red. Sylus also caught a break that Tiamat was sleeping during his visit as well. Hours were given to carving out a seven foot groove into the spinal column he'd taken from the skeleton of the ancient platinum whom had bound Chimara with the ultimate act of self sacrifice.
The weapon itself was a spear. Fitting a spear had always been the weapon of choice to kill dragons, and now one would set free their ancient bane. One side of the spear would be for cutting and slicing, its blade sharp enough to cut through a falling strand of silk. The other would hold the barbs that could render chunks flesh on extraction. The spear head itself would make a triangular wound like that of a bayonet; a nasty weapon indeed.
Folding the molten alloy took him the last year alone. It wasn't just pour and pound. Oh no; Sylus created the spear one millimeter at a time. One fold, pound it flat, reheat and pour another fold. The Elder Kurgen repeated this process over four thousand times. Not only would this set his memories free, but the forging of such a weapon he could call it his Master's piece.
After a year of constant toil, the spear was nearly complete. ONly two requirements remained. A drop of blood from Chimara, and the blood of an ancient red to cool the metal one final time. There was only one ancient red that he knew of; and that dragon had forged the scimitars he loved so dear.
That was just the beginning of the task. Next came the cutting of the mold. For a weapon of this power, a simple stone basin would never have done at all, nor a die cast. The weapon charged to him required the fires of hell itself to heat and infuse with the molding. Trapping an elder efreet from the City of Brass had been no easy task, but its Outsider blood burned at the needed temperature with the right magicks. Not to mention, having bested the Outsider, it was now bound to him for all time. Bound to protect him and the mundane manifestation of the creature hung on a peg against the wall in the form of brass falchion.
If his course were not the proper one, Sylus may have felt disgusted with himself. However, he could ill afford to bother with such self-deprecation. With the efreeti fires keeping the metal hot, he could now work on the weapon mold. All the while a great number of sorceries swirled in the storm clouds above the Keep, each crack of lighting and each roar of thunder resounding with ancient power.
The mold required to forge a weapon with the power to break magical bonds that had held strong for so many a millenia had to be made from the bones of the dragon which created the chains. The Dragon's Graveyard was a place not meant to be tread by anything other than those of draconic descent. It was a good thing then that Chimara was made with a gargantuan platinum and red. Sylus also caught a break that Tiamat was sleeping during his visit as well. Hours were given to carving out a seven foot groove into the spinal column he'd taken from the skeleton of the ancient platinum whom had bound Chimara with the ultimate act of self sacrifice.
The weapon itself was a spear. Fitting a spear had always been the weapon of choice to kill dragons, and now one would set free their ancient bane. One side of the spear would be for cutting and slicing, its blade sharp enough to cut through a falling strand of silk. The other would hold the barbs that could render chunks flesh on extraction. The spear head itself would make a triangular wound like that of a bayonet; a nasty weapon indeed.
Folding the molten alloy took him the last year alone. It wasn't just pour and pound. Oh no; Sylus created the spear one millimeter at a time. One fold, pound it flat, reheat and pour another fold. The Elder Kurgen repeated this process over four thousand times. Not only would this set his memories free, but the forging of such a weapon he could call it his Master's piece.
After a year of constant toil, the spear was nearly complete. ONly two requirements remained. A drop of blood from Chimara, and the blood of an ancient red to cool the metal one final time. There was only one ancient red that he knew of; and that dragon had forged the scimitars he loved so dear.