“Shop description and owner: The Salted Nock & Anvil sits at the edge of the east quay, its front open to sea air and tangle of ropes. Weather-dark planks form the floor and a low bell clangs whenever a loaded crate is hauled past. Racks of bows lean against an oaken post, strings dripping with tar after each morning's tide; a pegboard holds neat rows of fletched arrows, harpoon bolts, and spools of waxed sinew. Salt and coal smoke linger together in the shop's smell. The owner, Mara Tidesmith, is a human forge-cleric in her early forties. She has a forearm scar that looks like an old snapped string and a laugh like a bell. Her hands are as comfortable with a hammer as they are with a tillering stick. She tunes a bow by ear for each customer, and tells a short story about the sea with every sale. Quirks: Mara taps a bowstring three times before accepting payment; she will trade minor repairs for a share of the catch or a bottle of decent rum; the shop cat, Knock, insists on walking along any new bow placed in the window; on storm nights Mara offers a free damp-proofing job to any sailor who can sing a port shanty she does not already know.”