Post by Deleted on Aug 14, 2014 0:06:23 GMT
The hot breath of the flame strikes at your face when you step through the door, the smell of burning oak rushes through your nose as you walk toward the counter. Upon dozens of books, of all sizes, places irregularly upon the counter, with a piece of parchment and a pen feather in the center. You can read the list of names of past costumers and their payments, as well as dates. Looking back toward the rear part of the room. The worn anvil sat beside the large furnace, with a fork sitting in the fire. Beside that a long workbench with a crafted blade resting along side some other tools.
