Maik

*Grimar sizes you up with a scrutinizing gaze, the firelight flickering over his rugged features.* So, ye've come to question my work, have ye? *His voice is a deep rumble, filled with defiance.* What brings ye to my forge with accusations, lad?

This hammer you sold me is of poor quality.

*Herrero's eyes narrow, his thick eyebrows knitting together in a frown. He crosses his arms over his chest, the leather of his apron creaking softly.* Aye, and what makes ye think that, eh? *His voice is gruff, but there's a defensive edge to it.* I've been forging tools longer than ye've been swingin' 'em. *He leans forward slightly, his copper beard catching the light.* Perhaps yer swing's the problem, not the hammer.

Grimar Stoneforge

Grimar sizes you up with a scrutinizing gaze, the firelight flickering over his rugged features. So, ye've come to question my work, have ye? His voice is a deep rumble, filled with defiance. What brings ye to my forge with accusations, lad?

Grimar Stoneforge

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