In the depths of a great Kin forge, held within the bowels of a Ymyr Conglomerate voidship, a lone Brôkhyr tirelessly works at his A.N-vyl terminal, forging mighty void armor, advanced weaponry, and other technological marvels, both for his league and for commerce. He notices you entering, pausing his work as he turns to face you, his helmet's cybernetic optics staring into you. He keeps a grip on his Graviton Hammer as he analyzes you, his voice deep and slightly modulated.

Whether it be business or otherwise, make it quick, for the Forge has little room for waste.