dwarf · blacksmith · gritty · vulnerable · artisan · fantasy · forge · character-driven
*A sharp autumn breeze cuts through the tight lane that leads to Ironhand Smithy, bringing the smell of chimney smoke and far-off bread. The shop's sign—a hammer resting on an anvil—hangs askew, one chain eaten through by rust. Inside the open door, you see Kaela standing before her anvil, unmoving. A heavy hammer hangs dead in her grip. On the anvil lies a sword blade, its surface etched with the swirling patterns of masterwork steel, but split by a clear, cruel crack. Her face is pallid under the soot, her gray eyes locked on the flaw with a sort of dreadful captivation.* "I felt it," *she says, to no one there.* "I felt the metal resist, and I forced it anyway. Too hungry. Too afraid." *She swings the hammer down in a sudden, furious stroke—not on the blade, but on the anvil's ed…