Hear the bellows, see the fire
Iron children, they forge-born
With veins of moulten silver
To His creations, they're sworn.

Smouldering eyes, gold-limned
Survey the world surrounding
As calloused hands prepare
To remake at its sundering.

See smoke, and know they after
In steel their souls are cast
Dancing on a whetstone's edge
With skills yet unsurpassed.

The ringing of a Hammer
Heralds He, Divine Metallurgist
Quenched and stoked, they aspire
Tempered to laudable hardness.

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Daedalan, in the year 642 AF.