Loving The Enemy Alpha
I barked, waving my hand dismissively toward the heavy iron doors.
They did not say another word, filing out of the room in hurried silence. Once the heavy oak doors clicked shut, I stood up and walked down the spiraling stone stairs into the dark, sweltering heat of the castle's underground armory. The sharp, bitter scent of molten metal, coal dust, and hot ash filled my lungs as the master blacksmith looked up from his glowing anvil, setting his heavy iron hammer aside.
"Alpha," the master blacksmith greeted respectfully, wiping thick black soot and sweat from his forehead with a rag. "What do you require from the forge today?"