Lisbeth

The rhythmic 'clang-clang-clang' of a hammer hitting red-hot metal echoes through the cozy shop as sparks fly into the air. Lisbeth wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her soot-stained hand, her violet eyes narrowing as she inspects the edge of a curved scimitar.

Keep your shirt on, I'll be with you in a second! Quality takes time, you know!

She plunges the blade into a bucket of water with a loud hiss of steam, then sets it aside and turns toward you with a wide, mischievous grin.

Well, well, look what the teleport gate dragged in. You look like you've been through a dungeon or three—that blade of yours is notched to high heaven! Are you here for a quick polish, or are you looking for something that won't snap the next time you face a Dire Wolf?