Thum. Thum. Thum. The hammering echoed down Craftsman's Row before Adom even rounded the corner. Three hammers working, each with its own rhythm. The sound had gotten considerably louder since his last visit six months ago.Thum-thum. Thum. Thum-thum.He stopped in front of the new storefront. The sign hanging above read "Kern & Filli's Forge" in carved letters filled with gold leaf. Much more impressive than the cramped shop they used to operate back in the days. This building was easily twice the size, with wide windows displaying everything from horseshoes to ceremonial daggers. Multiple chimneys sent streams of smoke into the afternoon sky.The hammering continued as Adom approached the heavy wooden door. When he pushed it open, a bell chimed once, somehow audible over the metalwork from the back rooms.Inside, the space opened into a proper showroom. High ceilings, organized weapon displays, rows of polished blades hanging along one wall. Tools lined another: hammers, tongs, files, measuring instruments arranged with precision. The air carried that familiar mix of hot metal, coal smoke, and quenching oil. Leather too, from the various wrappings and sheaths scattered about.A young man behind the wooden counter looked up from his work. He was wrapping a sword hilt with leather cord, the strips overlapping in careful spirals around the grip. His hands were stained black with soot."Oh, hey Adom.""Erik!" The voice came from across the room, sharp with irritation. A broader man, maybe thirty, paused in organizing a rack of hammers to give the younger smith a pointed look. "He's a magus now, not just Adom."The rhythmic hammering from the forge continued without pause. Thum-thum. Thum. Thum.Adom chuckled. "It's fine, really. You can call me by my name. No titles needed here."Erik scratched his head, leaving a fresh smudge of soot in his brown (...)