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Following his visit to the Mercenary Guild, Dale went to the sole smithy in town, his favorite place...
He expected to see Barme doing the same thing he did every day and to hear his complaints about how he didn't have any Ore to work with or how his toe still hurt from when his hammer fell onto it…
But instead, he saw something different.
Inside his shop, Barme could be seen talking with eight different people of several ages, albeit none looked younger than his father...
They all looked like Barme… And in a sense, they all smelled like him…
Coal, sweat, iron, fire!
Smiths!
… After a moment of inquiry, Dale quickly understood the situation.
These people naturally gathered here in Barme's shop because they were… Well… Bored, and itching to do something with their hammers.
Having left their home, their shops, and their previous life behind, there was nothing they could do now.