Lord Terrace and Damon moved quickly through the bustling streets of the market district. The energy of the place was overflowing, with merchants calling out their wares, children darting between stalls, and the scents of roasted meats and exotic spices wafting through the air.
However, their destination lay ahead—a massive structure that dominated the end of the street. The building's grand design, crafted from stone and steel, bore a name that left no room for doubt: "The Lord's Smithy."
The words were carved deep into the archway above the entrance, flanked by symbols of hammers and blades.
A rare smile brightened Lord Terrace's face as he took in the sight. Damon noticed, surprised by this glimpse of warmth that was so unlike his father's usual demeanor. Together, they stepped through the wide double doors, entering the smithy's fiery heart.
