Noris Silverhand was a squat dwarf with a long black heard and eyebrows thick as any of the great oaks in Raiaera. He was also one of Ettermire's best kept secrets. His smithy was nestled away from the usual neighborhoods where steel workers and artificers grouped. Instead, it was just off the way of Restaurant Row. Maybe that was why Skie liked it so much, aside from Silverhand's skill with a hammer and anvil. It was nice to have the fragrance of spices and roasting meats masking the smell of smoke and hot metal.

The sharpness of cinnamon mixed with the sticky sweetness of sugar was the herald today as Skie and Seth stepped through the door. An intricate bell, worn from years of use chimed softly as they stepped in. The wooden walls were warm and inviting, the mix of sunlight from a skylight and the golden lanterns painting the counters and wreathing the shields and blades on display in a caramel light. The path from the door to the counter was scuffed forever into the floorboards, no matter how well waxed they were kept.

At the counter, a young girl stood, talking softly and cheerfully with Noris. Skie nodded as she made contact with him, a bundle in her arms waiting to be placed on the counter. While she and Seth were more than capable of sharpening their own blades, she had to admit that the dwarf's talent was well worth the coin.

"Thank you!" the girl said, grabbing up a pretty bauble. It was a small orchid, made of the folded and sculpted remains of an old file. The gruff metalsmith was known to make such things now and again, something that had enchanted Skie even though Malagaste had dismissed it as frivolous. Even for a Drow, he was a stick in the mud.

When the girl, a pretty little slip of a thing with hair shorn down and a bandage wrapping her left wrist as the only accessory to her bright sundress - moved to the door Skie stepped forward to hand over their sharpening order.

"Oh dear," Noris sighed, just after the bell had chimed to signal the girl's exit. "She left her change."