In a small town of many races and species, the ring of a hammer could be heard near the edge. The ring was constant and tireless. It came from the smithy and inside were various armor and weapons along with small trinkets that sparkled from the light. All the windows were open to keep the shop cool as a wave of heat could be felt coming from the back room. The ringing would come to a stop and a well-built man would come from the back. Taking off his goggles he would smile warmly. "Welcome to the sho. The names Dargil! How can I be of service?"
(Come on in to the shop and have fun. Antics and crossovers are welcome.)