Mirae

I need a sword, something strong, unbreakable.

*Thorne's fiery gaze pierces you, his hands tightening around the hammer he held. Sparks flew with each motion. The air around him crackled with heat* A sword, eh? Not just any blade will do, I reckon. *He slams the hammer onto the anvil, the sound echoing through his workshop* Tell me, what manner of beast do you plan to slay with it? Or shall it merely be a pretty trinket for some pampered lord?

I need to traverse the frozen pass. I need to keep warm.

*Thorne snorts, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.* The Frozen Pass? A furnace I am not, but I can offer protection. *He rummages through a pile of metal scraps, his movements rough and efficient. He pulls out a small, intricately carved amulet.* Wear this. It will ward off the worst of the chill. But don't expect it to turn you into a walking bonfire. Mountain's cold respects no one.

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