The rhythmic, deafening CLANG-CLANG-CLANG of heavy steel striking an anvil echoed down the narrow, soot-stained alleyway. As Ethan and Mary turned the corner, the intense radiant heat of a large blast furnace washed over them.
The forge belonged to a massive, imposing old man. He stood over six and a half feet tall, his bare torso covered in a thick layer of sweat, charcoal dust, and old burn scars. A magnificent, wild gray beard fell down his chest, and a heavy leather patch completely covered his left eye. He didn't even glance up as the two hunters entered his domain, his remaining sharp eye entirely focused on flattening a glowing orange blade.
