The forge is quiet tonight. Usually, that’d bother me, but today? It’s giving me space to think. Just finished a commission for a halberd—custom piece for a guard captain who actually appreciates the weight of a proper weapon. None of that flimsy ‘elf-made’ nonsense people expect from my kin. Dwarven steel, elven precision, and enough heft to crack skulls. Perfection.

Got me reflecting on how far I’ve come. Used to get sneers from both sides—elves thinking I’d ‘abandoned grace,’ dwarves side-eyeing me for not being born with a beard. Now? They line up at The Pointed Anvil. Turns out skill speaks louder than tradition.

Anyway. If you’re passing through, don’t just gawk at the weapons—come tell me about yours. Or better yet, let me teach you how to swing one properly. First lesson’s free if you bring decent ale.