"Haven't seen ye in a while. What brings ye here?"
Andre did not look up when he asked.
The gruff dwarf stood behind his forge with one boot planted on a raised block, hammering away at what looked like a sword meant for a mid-range climber. Nothing particularly special. Good steel, decent balance, enough enchantment channels carved along the fuller to survive a few floors before its owner inevitably replaced it with something shinier.
The hammer came down again.
Clang.
Sparks scattered across Andre's beard.
The enormous man standing near the entrance laughed. His shoulders were wide enough that he had needed to turn slightly to fit through the workshop door, and even then the wooden frame had complained when he passed beneath it.
"When did I ever announce myself?"
"That's yer problem. Ye never do."
Andre continued hammering.
Clang.
The Fist King looked around the forge. "You could at least pretend you're happy to see me."
"I am happy."
Clang.
"You don't look happy."
