“Khajiit would like to know why he broke his toes fumbling this dwemer metal only for you to not practice your smithcraft as you said you would,” M’Rynn said sullenly as he glared at the offending pile of scrap metal.

“I told you before, M’Rynn, I don’t think this old dwemer smelter is in working order,” replied his argonian companion, a blue-scaled and powerful mage named Ajum-Tei.

“Then why did you not tell this to M’Rynn before the dwemer scraps assaulted his poor digits?”

Ajum-Tei rolled his eyes. “Oh would you give it a rest already? I healed you right up.”

“Yes, and you are also the source of M’Rynn’s misery. He would have you do what you said you would do with the metal he gathered, and practice your smithcraft.”

Ajum-Tei sighed. “M’Rynn, there are stress fractures all over these old steam pipes. They look like they were fixed by a drunken bandit. I don’t think trying to get this old smelter going again is going to be safe,” the argonian protested.

M’Rynn crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his friend. “This one is all but out of arrows. You said you would make more if M’Rynn gathered what was needed. M’Rynn has gathered what is needed, and been hurt in the process.”

The argonian sighed once again and rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll see if I can get this dwemer contraption working again...”

Flames danced over his fingertips suddenly as he willed fire into existence by the power of his magic. M’Rynn stepped back as Ajum-Tei channeled a stream of fire into the open kindling box at the base of the smelter. Steam began to flow soon after and the automated smithing equipment began to move again, too.

“See? M’Rynn told you – is it supposed to make that noise?”

“I doubt it. RUN!”

But it was too late. The smelter and steam pipes ruptured, spraying hot gas and coals everywhere. The two adventurers had stripped down to their trousers and paid the price as their feet burned on the floor that was suddenly a sea of hot coals.