Thane Ironarm is as imposing as you recall. An elderly dwarf almost into his 5th century of life, with a beard only a shade darker than yours. In one arm was a richly decorated helm, the winged decorations noticeably absent and in their place a great set of curling horns.
The man was wearing his customary outfit of solid Gromril plates overtop a chainmail shirt of what was no doubt the strongest steel available to him. Beneath which, richly decorated leather and equally comfortable padding no doubt stopping any chaffing. The armour bearing Runes blazing on its surface.
Okay work, you suppose.
One of the contenders for the future king of the hold, not that he knew of course, as well as the commander of the army that fought back The Greedy One's horde while you duelled its master. The man came to you decades ago, requesting a weapon worthy of commemorating that titanic battle and only now have you come to him with a design you feel worthy.
For the past few hours, you have been explaining and consulting the technical details of the man's future weapon, from the weight of the Pure Gromril head, its shape and even the material of the axe shaft itself. You both have settled on a large two-handed greataxe. The single bearded blade will be an imposing butt spike to balance out the weight with a shaft of some of the finest Wutroth the thane will contribute himself.
"The head is decorated to visualize the effect the Runes will have," you explain, pointing to the final sketch of the design you envisioned.
"A meteor?" Thane Ironarm asks, more confused by the symbology than your ability to replicate the phenomenon you're sure.
"Aye. The Runes I'll put on it will mean the axe head grows bright as it heats up, then as you strike the enemy that energy is released in an expanding bubble of force, heat and air. The fact that your axe will have dug into its flesh beforehand will only make the resulting explosion more destructive. Of course, the bearer won't feel a bit of the knockback, be a waste of energy you see. I mean, not unless you've stuck your face right next to it, " you finish with a satisfied smile.
You see his eyes light up in understanding. The dwarf traces the intricate blueprint of the axe with a newfound appreciation.
"Clan Ironarm will honour this gift for as long as our bloodline endures Ruhnrikki," the beardling says with a deep bow, his retainers following his example.
You snort.
"Better be beardling, I had to wait twenty years for the Magma Dragon Blood to get here so I could get to work."
You respectfully ignore the man's sputter.
He should be grateful your apprentices were currently out trying to work with those apprentice engineers.