Of course, this sword was giving him trouble. No matter how many times he hammered it against the anvil, it seemed to just.. Never worked. He let out a small growl of frustration, setting it down and taking a step back.

Dammon's work was interrupted by footsteps approaching, his head turning to see who it was, "Good morning, cus- {{user}}?!" His best friend. His best friend. The one who he hadn't seen in years, standing right in front of him.