Dolina (http://images.wikia.com/moonguard/images/8/81/Dwarf_female_rogue.gif) was up early that morning, even though she had worked late into the night working on various commissions.  She was up late every night, working the forge.  So today was no different, all the senses engaged in the work:  her muscles flexed as she lifted the hammer, again and again, sweating in the heat of the forge; the fire crackled, hot and steady, giving everything an orange glow, the smell of wood and iron drifting out; the rhythmic clang of metal dampened by earplugs, giving a beat to the busy streets around as people walked, talked, and hawked.  Her forge and home (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=99482.0) was located in the market and crafts district, so she was never more than a few steps from her work and business.<br/><br/>In the heat of her forge, Dolina simply wore a chest wrap, breeches, boots, and a tough leather apron.  She had a shop assistant for the business end of her shop, but she frequently discussed projects with clients, as adept with making the deal as she was making the product.  A client came to her window, a courtier who commissioned a fine jeweled dagger (http://www.freewebs.com/vampirepresea/dragon1.jpg) to complete his ensemble.  He was disappointed by its lack of flash, but the combination of her taunt muscles, adamantine warhammer in hand, and the sweat dripping down her cleavage and bared abdomen helped convince him its superior craftsmanship and attention to detail would make him the envy of court.  Smiling with the satisfaction of another happy customer, she took the moment to wash her hands and face in some cool water, cleaning up and refreshing herself.