That Kinterun's Noble Breastplate was your first test for Armorsmithing Expert.

But Adamantium's flamin' child's play next to...Orichalcum! Lord of bloody metals. Nothing stronger, nothing lighter.

Only those with true craft have a prayer of workin' it.

Player: "And the second test?"

Make me Vidar's Noble Breastplate. Sound simple? Then get started.

You'll need every trick I've taught you. But you do this, you'll earn your blasted title, and no mistake. This breastplate is similar to Vidar's Breastplate, but more stronger. More worthy of admiration.

Ready t'meet destiny, youngster?

Player: Accept.

Too balfludging right!

You've got the forge's fire inside you. Must do, if you want to be an Expert. Or a Master.

Go, youngster. Craft Vidar's Noble Breastplate.

Player: "I'll need those fires hot!"

Logi and me, we have our tiffs. Can't be helped, can it, between Armorsmiths and Weaponsmiths.

But each bloody hole he cleaves through my best work stokes me up to shatter his finest blade on my next shield!

Hope you get that some day, youngling. It's pure joy, is the battle between Masters. So how's that blasted test I gave you?

Player: "See for yourself."

Naaah, you're not even trying, are you?

Come on, Smith! Ought to be singed feathers flyin' here, metal spattering, and glorious work thrown aside for rubbish!

And SWEAR! Kind words don't do real work, glowworm! You want to make Expert, my balfludgered ears should bleed! Get cracking!

Player: "Gimme those bleedin' tongs!"

It's...perfect.

I could crawl up Fregion's flaming armpit with this, and never sweat a drop.

Bloody brilliant, Player. The work of a true Expert of the craft.