“The armory is called The Red Anvil and occupies a reinforced stone storefront beneath a soot-darkened guildhall. Its front room smells of hot iron, leather, lamp oil, and sharp whetstone dust. Weapons hang in orderly ranks along the walls, while armor stands are arranged by size and use rather than price. A narrow passage leads to a forge room where blue-white coals burn beneath a chimney fitted with copper vents. Every customer is asked to strike a test plate with any weapon they purchase, partly to demonstrate balance and partly to discourage thieves. The shopkeeper, Mara Veld, is a broad-shouldered human woman in her late fifties with iron-gray braids, burn scars across one forearm, and a missing tip to her left index finger. She is a level 7 fighter and former city quartermaster who treats equipment as a soldier treats a comrade: maintain it, know its limits, and never trust a flashy finish. Mara is blunt but fair, offers a 10 percent discount to recognized guild members and veterans, and refuses to sell poison or unusually destructive weapons to anyone who cannot explain their intended use. Her two assistants, Pell and Orin, are veteran smiths who sleep in a loft above the forge and are trained to respond to the concealed alarm bell. The armory accepts gold, silver, and trade bars, but does not accept electrum unless the customer is willing to wait while Mara verifies its weight and purity.”