Hammer and Heartache

The forge was tucked just inside the shadowed mouth of the cave, the warmth from the fire spilling into the cooler air of the Grove. The sharp clang of steel rang out in rhythmic beats, echoing across the stone as we stepped in. Dammon stood at the anvil, sleeves rolled up, horns slick with sweat, hammer in one hand and glowing tongs in the other.

He looked up, and a smile broke across his soot-streaked face. "Well, well—look what the wind dragged in. I remember you three," he said, nodding to me, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel.

His eyes fell on Karlach and widened. The hammer slipped from his grip and clattered against the stone floor.

_"By the hells..." he breathed. "You—you're walking around with a damn furnace strapped to your chest."_

Karlach grinned, teeth sharp and eyes shining. "More or less. This beauty here is an infernal engine. Keeps me around. Also happens to be slowly trying to roast me alive. Bit of a design flaw."

Dammon blinked, took a step closer, then turned his head slightly as if listening to the humming heat of her body. "Gods, I can hear it. That thing's not just hot—it's unstable. You’ve been running this... raw?"

"I don’t exactly have a Zariel-approved maintenance plan. I hear you’re the closest thing I’ve got to an infernal mechanic."

Dammon ran a hand through his hair, eyes scanning the thrum of her chest. "I can work with it. But I need proper material—something forged in hellfire."

I cleared my throat and reached into my pack. "You mean something like this?"

From the depths of my bag, I drew out a blackened shard of infernal metal, faintly pulsing with heat. Dammon’s eyes widened.

"Where in the nine hells did you—?"

"Goblin camp," I said with a shrug. "They just so happened to have it laying around."

"Riiight..." he drawled, eyeing me like he half-believed it. "Well, whatever divine mischief guides your steps, this'll do splendidly."

Shadowheart playfully folded her arms. "Oh look. Another convenient coincidence. What a surprise."

Lae’zel shot her a fierce glance. "Doubt him if you wish, but we benefit from his foreknowledge. Your insubordination is unwanted."

That earned her a blink from Shadowheart and a flicker of amusement from me. Yesterday's 'sparring session' had left quite the impression on her.

Karlach, meanwhile, looked practically radiant. “You really thought of everything Boss. You spoil me~."

Dammon wasted no time. He placed the metal onto a glowing tray, pressed it between a set of steel tongs, and began hammering with swift precision. Sparks flew, the metal hissing and screeching like it remembered the hells it came from. Within minutes, he held up a small trinket—crude, glowing, shaped like a spine of brass flame—Incomprehensible.

He stepped toward Karlach. "Alright. Just... lean forward."

She tilted her head, puzzled. "Wait, don’t you need tools? Or like... a chisel? Something sharp?"

"Nope. Just trust me."

She did. He pressed the molten trinket to her chest. It slid in with a soft hiss, vanishing like a key into a lock. A burst of flame surged around her body, rising in a swirl before dying down. Her eyes flared, and she let out a deep, guttural breath.

"Ohhhhhh gods. That felt—whew. Powerful. Like I could bench an owlbear."

Dammon stepped back, admiring his work. "The heart's more stable now. But it's still burning hot. I’ll need a hotter forge and more of that metal to fully rework it."

Karlach’s high lasted another breath before she sighed, hands hovering near me. "Still too hot to touch, huh?"

"For now," Dammon confirmed.

I gave her a small, apologetic shrug. "But we’ll get what you need. No question."

She grinned again. "That’s why I like you. You say impossible things like they’re already half done already. I Can’t wait to touch. Be touched."

Shadowheart sighed softly.

Dammon, wiping his hands on a rag, looked at me with a smirk. "So... how’s that shield I sold you holding up? Still doing it's job?"

I paused. Deadpan. "Saved my life, multiple times. Until a giant spider took it and deepdived into the Underdark."

His face went blank. "...No refunds."

Karlach burst into laughter. I joined her, and even Shadowheart cracked a smile.

"You’re a lifesaver, Dammon," I said, clapping his shoulder.

"Well, I try not to let the grove burn down while I’m at it. Go deal with your vine-obsessed druids. I’ll be here. And remember—bring me more hell-metal next time."

We stepped out of the cave into the dappled light of the grove, the scent of flowers clashing with the faint sulfur still clinging to Karlach. Her steps were lighter. Stronger. Even if the fire had died down.

Next stop: The inner sanctum.