Alvitor's left eye wandered as he worked. The sphere rotated in its socket and absorbed its surroundings. It suddenly zoomed in on a familiar silhouette. The Anubis. Still here. Alvitor ignored him as he continued working, shaping out the contours of the armor. He was tired, but he vowed not to give up. Finally, the glimmer of the morning sun rose into the sky, and Alvitor saw the rays of light twinkle on the suit of armor before him. With one final CLANK, the hammer fell from his hand. The armor lay before him.
It was plate armor, but of a unique kind. Each piece was orthogonal and interlocked with every surrounding piece, all connected by a corrugated, sturdy chestplate. Alvitor lifted the suit of armor. It was heavier than the chainmail that he often wore, but not by too much. The Anubis would have no trouble with it. Alvitor then struck the chestplate with his hammer as hard as he dared. The hammer glanced off and the armor did not even dent. Perfect, Alvitor said.
It was now morning, and Alvitor had to work on the blade. From the back room, he retrieved three different grades of metal ranging from hard to soft. While most Forgers made arms out of a single metal, Alvitor created each part of the blade separately, pounding the hardest metals to form the thinnest, sharpest and strongest edges. The softer metals were folded and folded over into themselves, forming a springy bar capable of absorbing impact. Then, he fused the two parts together with heat, air, and the moderate metal.
The rudimentary outline of the sword was formed, and it was noontime. Alvitor took another draught of water, finishing his jug. Alvitor then worked on forging the handle and sharpening the blade. Almost done, said Alvitor.
