Skeldr Jarnvardr made a mechanical grunt. The E-COG affixing his new ankle beeped an interrogative and Skeldr waved it away. Ironkin did not really feel pain, but to make their fleshy companions more at ease they tended to utilize similar vocal signifiers during such times. It brought both halves of the Kin together, wielded them to each other. In the Solbond Gardhird, such things were not necessary but were still practiced.

The Steeljack Elder looked around at the Iron-Master's domain. E-COGs and assistants busied themselves with repairs and enhancements on vehicles and Ironkin, with the Iron-Master himself stood at a plasma forge. Bright energy and furious heat poured from the forge, ignored by Kharvund as he worked his craft. Gravitonic beams carried super-dense alloys to the forge; Kharvund plunged his tools into the plasma and hammered with microscopic precision. A weapon took form, the classic short-hafted warhammer of the Kin, laden with gravic field generators and etched with the potent runes of warding. A true weapon of a champion.

The Iron-Master stepped back and set the weapon down. He turned to the spectating Elder and motioned to the hammer.

"Your weapon is ready, Elder Jarnvardr." 

Skeldr took up the hammer, read the runes engraved on the haft. Foe-Ender. A simple name, but one that had a direct and honorable purpose. He had earned this weapon by completing the first portion of his expedition, by securing assets for the Gardhird and directing his battles. He did not win every fight, but his decisions were sound and the High Khal had shown his approval. 

Now, as the battle leader strode back to his waiting warriors, he walked with a reinforced purpose. Just like his weapon he had been forged in the fires and had come out hardened. Whatever may come, Skeldr was ready.