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You would have need of your digits; telekinesis wouldn't be able to give you the fine motor control necessary for this task. And besides, it has been too long since you have wrought with your own hands, but first, you should instruct your underlings.
<span class="mu-i"> <span class="mu-r"> "Tell them to throw those crude goblin weapons into the forge, for we have need of the metal." </span> </span> You whispered to Simbar, who was jumping up and down the bellow like a man possessed.
The Dwarven forge didn't require fuel, at least not in the traditional sense of the word. The runes etched into the walls of the forge itself provided all the heat necessary for metalworking, a feat of ancient Dwarven engineering that would be of great use to you.
But first, you required your hand to be brought forth; you poured whatever essence you had, concentrating it into making yourself new hands made of raw dark energy, but something went wrong, for as you concentrated, the aura that kept the goblins away collapsed.
And they sensed it as well, and they sensed the presence of a new meal within the forge, and their guttural laughter began to fill the tunnel underneath. They were coming, weapons drawn and wardrums banging; they were coming.
Reacting quickly, you poured your dark power into the aura to re-establish your menacing presence, and like a barking dog before lightning, the filthy creatures slinked back into the Underdark.
<span class="mu-s"> -3 DP </span>
That was a close one; you weren't ready to bring them to heel, not yet. But it had taken you extrta effort to scare them away once more. And you dind like it.
But as the molten metal poured from the forge, you knew that you needed to begin work. Your appendage picked up the hammer. You had no need for moulds or casts; your hands would shape the metal as easily as if it were clay. Mortal men might have lost their fingers or sustained burns, but you were no mere mortal. Your skills were unmatched in the art of smithing, and with each strike of the hammer, you felt a sense of creative pleasure, the same you had when you forged your weapon and armour so long ago.
Simbar would better be grateful for the artwork you were making for him, for it was a masterpiece in the making. As the metal began to take shape under your skilled hands, you knew that this creation would be a gift worthy of a king.
<span class="mu-s"> You currently have 12/15 DP </span>
But speaking of that, how far were you going to go with it?
>A simple mask of steel, with an opening for the mouth, eyes and nose.
>Create a magical mask, to be fused to his face, granting him an intimidating gaze that can inspire fear. -2 DP
>You shall not merely create a mask, but a set of armour, for him to wear, enhancing his toughness and strength. -4 DP
>You had enough of Simbar's uselessness and weakness; you shall burn him to a crisp, but keep him alive, so you may lock him within an armour of black metal. He shall be a voiceless, nameless hulk, with barely enough autonomy to look after his master's bearer. -8 DP
