Once upon a time in the land of Aden there lived a master craftsman.
A jolly fella, but also a master in his art of crafting.
He could create and fix anything. People would call him for the most peculiar of reasons.
The dwarf would fix dwarven golems, broken steam machines, elven aquaducts, basically anything you can think of.
But the thing he was most famous for was the crafting of fine weapons and armors.
He would carefully pick the materials needed for crafting, before he proceeded.
One day he got called into the palace by the lord himself.
"Your ever so humble servant has arrived" - said the dwarf as he bowed.
"Welcome master dwarf" - the lord greeted him.
"What task have you in store for me, my lord?" - inquired the dwarf.
"In three weeks my son comes of age, I want to give him a marvelous sword that he would use to slay our enemies" - explained the lord.
"I would get right on the task my lord" - said the dwarf.
"But be mindful, I don't want just any sword, I want a sword of your finest material - mithril!" - added the lord.
"That would be difficult my lord, but I will do my best!" - vowed the dwarf.
Burdened by this heavy task, the dwarf equipped his best armor and weapon and set out for the mithril mines, far deep in the land of dwarves.
As he entered the mines, the guardian greeted him.
"I have received a letter from our lord" - he said - "you may enter the mine, but be careful."
"I will" - said the craftsman - "thank you for your consern brother"
As he entered the mine, he would search for the richest with mithril wall and start digging.
After hours of digging, he was finally able to dig out a big enough piece of mithril to craft a sword from.
He went back to his smithy and begun the crafting procedures.
To his surprise though, the mithril would not bend to his hammer.
Discouraged by the what had occurred, he thought for a while what to do.
He decided to seek advice from other blacksmiths across the land.
But no one knew the answer to his question.
As he searched for answers, he was finally able to learn something interesting from one of the blacksmiths.
"It is very hard to bend mithril" - said the blacksmith - "I know of only one person who is still alive and knows the technique"
"Please tell me who he is" - pleaded the craftsman - "I don't have any other choice, but to ask his guidance"
"Very well." - said the blacksmith - "He is no longer in the crafting business, so he spends his days in the fields near Oren town, but be careful, they are filled with Ol Mahums, you should probably go during the night, to avoid any troubles."
And so the craftsman went during the night. He was able to pass, for the guards were all drunk and asleep.
Upon the hill, he saw a figure of a dwarf. He approached and greeted him.
"Master Reorin I presumed" - said the craftsman as he bowed - "I search your council"
"Hoho, I haven't been called a master for 100 years" - said Reorin - "Tell me what troubles you young dwarf!"
"I have been given a task by the lord to craft a sword for his sons birthday" - explained the craftsman - "The lord wanted a finest sword created from mithril. I gathered the materials needed, but I can't mold it into a sword"
"Hohoho, of course you can't young dwarf" - smirked Reorin - "the only way to bend mithril is by using a Titan hammer."
"But where would I find such a magnificent tool, surely they are all extinct by now" - gasped the craftsman.
"Yes.. yes.." - confirmed Reorin ".. but not all"
He pulled something from his bag and gave it to the craftsman.
It was a Titan hammer! Marvelous specimen, very well preserved.
"By Baium's beard!" - gasped the craftsman - "Titan's hammer!"
"use it wisely" - said Reorin.
"Thank you for this gift master Reorin, I will definitely give it back without a scratch!"
They bid farewell and the craftsman returned to his smithy.
Using the powerful Titan Hammer, he was able to mold the mithril into a marvelous sword.
He presented it to the lord with the words:
"Maestro Reorin sends his regards! May it serves your son well."