Jorgin stepped back and took a long look around his forge. The light from the morning sun winked off of metal of all shapes, from swords to ploughs; as he grabbed a rag to clean soot and grease from his hands, the big man nodded his head with satisfaction.
He pulled the large heavy leather apron over his head and tossed in onto the anvil. Stretching, Jorgin heard his spine click and he bent backwards, revelling in the feeling of worked muscles. He cricked his head and cracked his knuckles as he walked back to his house, just across the square.
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