Snippet #2446369

Itan's ears woke up faster than the rest of him. Before his eyes opened, his mind was assailed by the mental images of a fire crackling in a forge downstairs, crickets outside his windows and the voices of the soon opening market. In the drake's opinion, the market was the highlight of the morning, especially with the shipment of gems coming in this morning. Swinging his legs off the side of the bed was the most herculean effort he would perform all day no doubt, but the effort was done and the young drake was up, ready for the day's trials.

Within minutes, Itan was dressed with a pair of trousers, a cloak and several leather belts around his waist, chest and one around his left leg, all holding various pouches and all hidden by his long and battered forge master's apron. The gold inlay of the master's symbol was covered by the cloak itself, but the hood was drawn back to the filed down horns, revealing the maroon scales and pink scars of his elongated snout. He patted his small apprentice on the shoulder as the young boy stoked the fire. The lad was exhausted, having stayed up all night tending the fire and working on a small dagger that neared completion. Itan's eyes scanned the metal and grinned. The boy was improving and neared the ability to make blades as a profession, but still not enough to put the drake out of a job.

"You're improving Ulmo, that's for sure. Go and get some rest." Itan told him, tossing more fuel into the flame, then closing the glass casing in the front of the forge to ensure no stray embers caught the house on fire. Ulmo nodded sleepily and retired to the other half of the room where his bed was. With that Itan left for the market to pick up his gems that finally came in.