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... the smithy.

The smell that greeted me was not that of coal and molten iron typical of a forge but rather the musty scent of old wood.

Despite its name, the inside of the smithy bore little resemblance to a forge; it looked more like a common shop.

On both walls of the space, ornate swords were displayed like jewels in a showcase, an array of exquisite craftsmanship.

The counter was empty, the owner nowhere to be seen.

The woman approached the counter first and press ...

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