Somewhere in the Eternal Library, the workshop of the Craftsman, the Firstborn is nestled, and there does Hagran, also known as Hephaestus live with his divine consort Shyla.
The giant man was usually tending to the many forges, anvils, to rivers of molten steel crafting the treasures his Father asked for, but today was a bit special.
Earlier he sent a Daygaunt to fetch his wife from her gardens and now he was finishing the preparations. In-front of him a single decorated anvil and a small stream of molten metal upon it, and his trusty hammer that has created almost all of the exalted treasures Father requested.
Somewhere a door opened and closed loudly, and a dazzling figure approached him. Shlya as always wore her green robes made out of living plants, her slender arms entwined in ivy and grape, and her golden wheat hair cascading down her shoulders. She waved her hand infront of herself and coughed a bit as she was still unaccustomed to the smoke and grime of the Smith's foundry.
-You summoned me dear husband? -she inquired, her voice ringing like a small creek in the woods.
Hagran nodded and motioned her to come closer, while lifting the heavy hammer from beside the anvil.
-Come, come woman, I shall ask thee, what craft lies in your tender arms? Come, aid me, let ye use my metal hammer as well ye can.
The woman looked confused.
-But husband... I... I was not created for this, I grow things, not make and sculpt them...
-Be that as it is, but still, we were born by Father's blessing and serve him loyally till forever, but we be our own beings as well. Come now, do not be afraid.
The woman, while still unsure how this will go, stepped up to the Craftsman.
-Here lass, hold mine hammer, its been a tool of many works, many wonders, let it guide you, ye needs only to imagine what lies in ye soul, the hammer will aid you.