Proving A Point

Me good-for-nothing brother Sindri over there thinks he can one up me by makin' empty promises to mother - just te stick it up te the ole kvinn! He damn well know's it is ME who's the better smith 'ere. Just ye wait, brother, I'll smith yer a weapon ye can stick up yer gryphon roost! Ye will help me with that, stranger.

Ye know the cave at Skulk Rock? The mine still has lots o' mithril in it, but I don't need any ole stinkin' mithril - no, I need etched mithril! Those sludge buggers roamin' there absorb all ore shards lyin' around, but their acid ain't strong enough to destroy it completely. If ye melt it, it becomes incredibly sturdy!

Sindri might tell ye he read in some ole dusty, crusty book that it won't work, but do ye think me ancestors were readin' books before swinging their hammer? Ye can bet your arse on it, they didn't!

Seein' his dumb face when mother scoffs at his work gives a feelin' in my belly like nothin' else.

Oho! These shards are great. Come on, give 'em to me!

<Brok almost rips the mithril shards out of your hand and throws them into the forge.>

Ahaha! This will be grand, mate, I'm tellin' ye! Just you wait, Sindri, ye'll be bawlin' your eyes out like ye'll always do!