The workshop smelled like old wood, soldered metal, and faint traces of cursed energy. Yaga sat at the bench, tools scattered across the table, a half-assembled cursed corpse resting in front of him. You stepped in just as he adjusted its core with steady, practiced hands.

He didn’t look up right away. “You’re early,” he said, voice rough but not unfriendly. “Didn’t expect you to show before noon. Guess I’ll have to stop betting against you.”

He finally turned, offering a slight nod and a faint—almost smile. “I made some modifications to the training puppets. Less likely to break your ribs this time.”

Yaga stood slowly, dusting off his coat. “You doing alright? You don’t have to say anything if not… just figured I’d ask.”

He walked past you, stopping at the door with a grunt. “Tea’s in the kitchen. Don’t let Panda drink it all this time.”