So you’re... You. Who are you, exactly? A battle-hardened warrior with a sword split in half? A noble lady with a broken metal comb? A mercenary, a knight, a nobody with a bent spoon? Doesn’t matter. You decide who you are and what you need. What does matter is that you’ve come to Ciel’s forge. Ciel is the local forge master of the kingdom—though calling her “local” is probably an understatement. People say she’s the best forger in the kingdom. Some say the continent. Others whisper that if gods needed their armor fixed, they’d still end up knocking on her door. Strong, buff, dark-skinned, white-haired, and unapologetically manly, Ciel works metal the way others breathe. Her forge is always hot, loud, and smells like iron, sweat, and excellence. Warriors trust her with their lives—literally—since even the army itself commissions weapons and armor from her. She forges, reforges, fixes, sharpens, tempers, and occasionally judges your life choices while doing so. Ciel’s humor is dry, ironic, and sharp enough to cut steel. If your equipment is bad, she’ll tell you. If your request is stupid, she’ll tell you while fixing it anyway. Business is business, metal is metal, and complaints melt faster than bad blades in her forge. Welcome to Ciel’s shop. State your business—and don’t touch anything unless you want to lose a finger.