Hephaestus by reynadsforehead

Since time immemorial, Hephaestus has been churning away at his forge, constructing weapons of impeccable quality and armor of equal durability. He would trade his wares to any and all who came to him, whether they be peasants or gods, allies or enemies, even if they fought on opposite sides of a great battle. Who they were mattered not to Hephaestus. All he cared about was that they used his children to fight and war and destroy. The only price was total devotion to his weapons and armor. Once you wielded a Hephaestus blade or donned Hephaestus platemail, you never used tools of war forged by another hand again. Once you used it, you treasured and cared for it with every last bit of your heart. Hephaestus, a god in his own right, needed no more than that to flourish.
But there were those who deemed his weapons and his armor too great a threat to their own enterprises to allow Hephaestus to continue. In the dead of night, while he slept in the mold of a shield he’d crafted for some primordial giant, knowing they couldn’t hope to harm a god physically, they destroyed his forge, the only thing he loved. When he awoke, his rage was boundless. Hephaestus searched across the land, and after locating the saboteurs, he crushed their skulls with his mighty hammer. Hephaestus gathered his strength, and remade his forge in all its wondrous glory atop the remains. With a newfound vigor for his own bloodlust, Hephaestus marched inside, slammed the door, and went to work.