From the oral traditions of the High Mountain:

In the Age of Gods long before, Hrothgar was. The High Mountain was his home, where the tall stone caverns echoed with the hums and crackle of the Eternal Flame. It was with this Eternal Flame that the dwarves forged their intricate craft.

While the other races only perceived the cold, unforgiving rocky face of the High Mountain, only the true denizens of the mountain knew of the true heart within. Passion for their craft drove the dwarves, their passion given form in the harmonious sounds ringing out day and night.  Of hammer pounding metal, of hisses as molten heat crashed against cool water, of the low beats in the ancestral songs sung to one another.

The Dwarven Race was a member of the blessed few; not many races were protected with their own guardian god. Until Hrothgar too, disappeared..

.

.

.

Was what Andvari tells me as he cranked us out of the hole. His story gave me a lot to consider. There was more confirmation that yes, there were gods in this world. More than the one god, Ildrig? The god of mischief or whatever that gave me the skill from the rats.

If the gods were the ones that brought me here, there was a chance they could send me back!

I needed more information on these gods..

Lady. You see these, yes?

The dwarf’s firm tone interrupts my thoughts.

Yes, Sens- I mean- Andvari.

I look into Andvari's clouded eyes, at the mass of scar tissues where his eyes should be. We sat across from each other in the ring inside the bush. Andvari with his legs crossed and me sitting pretty on a log Greenie dragged here sometime ago for himself to itch his back on. Behind us, the wolves communicate with each other in a series of barks and whines, digging. Together with Greenie the wolves had the dry wood was neatly stacked and completely covered with wet mud to form a kiln. At the air duct we’d left at the top of the kiln, a long tongue of fire waved in the wind like a flag.

Soon, we would have charcoal! The clear progress we were making made my wings shiver in giddy delight. 

Andvari looked a lot better than when he’d been in that frightening hole. Color was returning to his cheeks as he sat by the new kiln we’d constructed.

Lady. Even blind, I can see your focus is elsewhere.

He gives me a cynical, crooked smile.

Sorry, Andvari. I- I had a lot going on in my head.

Between us lay the sword Andvari had tried to kill me with when we first met, the bronze armor from the possums, Greenie's Pink Soldier's Dirk, and a soft ball of dull silver metal that used to be the IV needles stuck in the wolves.

Andvari's dry, cracked fingernail rasps against the metals as he touches each of them in turn.

Of these, I know of only this.

He picks up the soft metal ball.

Malleable and light. 

This was the metal he called in his language, "Igni Alumen". But when I heard him speak to me through our thought link, I heard "Light Alumen".

Why don't you know the other items?

Curious, I stare at the soft ball in Andvari's hand while he warms his hand in the nearby flame and begins molding it.

Because these metals, as far as I know, should not exist. His dirty hands shake as he breaks the Alumen into two pieces.

Because they're alloys?

I ask, shaking my head in confusion.

His silence proves my assumption to be correct.

I didn't understand. What was wrong with these weapons? These metals looked quite common to me. When I appraised the sword, the description only showed me {Chipped Iron Sword}; while Greenie's dirk was, {Pink Soldier's Dirk}.

I thought dwarves worked with all kinds of metal..

I don’t know where you heard such information. That is wrong. No dwarf would work with iron, let alone touch it.

Andvari’s statement sends a crack through my worldview of dwarves. What was a dwarf without the cool weapon making!? The strong weapons made of even more powerful, legendary metals!?

But you did?

I did.

Andvari's talk about him being an impure alloy reverberates in my head.

Is Iron an alloy too?

No. It is filled with impurities.

His frown grows deeper, making the soot on his face crack like a ground of a barren desert. He turns his face away from me, a clear signal to end this conversation.

Welp. That didn’t work.

Didn’t seem like I would be getting any more information regarding this matter anytime soon.

I try my best to cheer Andvari up. I remembered how excited he’d been when I’d asked him about the items he’d crafted before. Maybe it would work again?

Can you tell me more about the materials you used; what you made before? You said something about chainmail? and..

Andvari cocks his chin down in my direction, arms still crossed. A trace of distrust hovered over his features, dissipating as quickly as it came.

….Shifting uncomfortably from one talon to another, I stare back up at the blind dwarf.

The hag said you are Raven, and you are not.. 

Not knowing how to respond, I keep my silence as Andvari continues in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

-It is strange you seem to know of Dwarves, yet you do not. Lady. You don’t know who-

Shaking his head, Andvari sets down the Alumen again, crossing his arms.

I only worked with Dawnwater Gold and Soft-silver. 

Uh- Thanks for letting me know.

Though Andvari did answer my previous question, the atmosphere between us was getting a little strange.

We’ve dug the hole, Alpha! Small one, come see!

Capo provides a welcome interruption to our conversation. Tail wagging behind him, Capo circles around the two of us, nudging us both to the edge of the trench that was the length and width of a dwarf.

Andvari had tried explaining to Capo the size before the wolves started digging but given up. Instead, he lay on the ground and had me hop around him, tracing his outline with a stick. The wolves used that outline as a guide as they dug while Andvari had given me his little lesson on metals.

I think this would work! What do you think, Andvari?

I asked Andvari, tapping at the (extremely) simplified version of the forge we'd created together. 

This..

Andvari walks around the trench, his hand on Capo’s back as they circle around it together. Once in a while, he stops, stooping down to pack the edges of the earth firmly.

Haaak!

I hold my breath, pinning my beak together as I wait for his response.

Will do.

Haaaaaah!

The sigh of relief gusts out of me.

My thanks, Wolf King. Andvari nods to the giant wolf, giving him a pat on the back.

Remember, I am Capo, small one. Don’t forget what you promised me.

Capo nudges Andvari back, silver tail wagging slightly behind him.

My beak falls open again at their exchange.

What, when did these two become close???!

Worming my way in between the two, I tap at Capo’s paw, then gently prod Andvari’s shins with my beak.

What did you promise him, Andvari?

It’s a secret.

Andvari bares his white teeth towards me in a grin.

After sharing a meal of the last salamander together, we were able to hash out what Andvari really needed.

Andvari wanted 3 things for his forge. A hearth, a bellows, and a hammer.

The hearth was made by the wolves. The bellows, Crixus had volunteered himself to gather animal hides for me to put together.

Greenie had volunteered himself for the part of crafting a hammer. His eyes had lit up when Andvari had given a description of what he wanted. As if he knew exactly where he could get a hammer.

I figured he was going to make one himself, using his skill [Odd Weapons Crafting]. Hopefully Greenie wouldn’t turn up with too strange a hammer for the poor dwarf to use.

Now the hearth was almost completed. After lining it with mud and setting a fire so that it would harden, the forge would be done.

Lady.

I’m here!

Patting the dirt off his knees, Andvari stands up, beckoning in the air for me.

Lady, I will need your help on this next part.