The Forge Wind Room looked more like a war engine factory than a place to train. Thick brass pipes arched along the ceilings and walls, with rows of massive bellows, ducts, vents, and levers spread throughout. Every tool here was meant to control one thing: airflow.
The Dwarven smith, now with sleeves rolled up and soot streaked across his face, pointed at a complex mechanism with dozens of knobs and rotating vents.
"Forge-fire breathes, boy," he said. "Your job now is to teach it to breathe right. You misalign a single draft flow and the entire flame chokes, sputters, or explodes. Get it right… and your heat bends steel like butter."
He handed them a forged blueprint etched into a slate: a diagram showing how to regulate core flow, secondary intake, and backflow exhausts for maximum burn efficiency.
"Today, you're gonna sculpt air like a wind god."
