The air in the workshop was thick with the tang of sweat and rang with the percussive symphony of a dozen hammers. Craftsmen of every stripe were bent over their tasks, their movements tense and economical. Even the youngest apprentices had been pressed into the flurry of work.
The whole place moved like a single, complex organism, every person a vital part working in tight coordination. Piece by piece, the foundation of the Crimson Vale
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