[ At the sound of the door opening to the smithy, he lifts his head, looking up from where he works on what appears to be a hilt of some kind. At seeing the one who enters, he stands, setting down his tools in the process. ]
Hail, Kisara.
[ They last saw each other on the train. Today, no longer cursed to be a toy soldier, he's dressed in his usual tunic, with a black toga draped over his shoulder. ]
-> smithy, kisara
Hail, Kisara.
[ They last saw each other on the train. Today, no longer cursed to be a toy soldier, he's dressed in his usual tunic, with a black toga draped over his shoulder. ]