Clerk Fortog
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Fortog is the proprietor of Marshtown Metalworkers, the public forge in the Solhaven region.
Description
Bearing a ruddy complexion, this large giantman looks flushed from a recent work session at a forge, although his clothing appears to be clean and dry. A faded, red-and-white sleeveless shirt and canvas trousers give him more a sailorish look than that of a smith, but do little to hide the enormous breadth of shoulder and thickness of bicep that mark his true calling.
Ambients
Fortog leans forward as he pulls a gleaming eonake toothpick from his belt pouch, "Most expensive toothpick I never hoped to see...an' the only toothpick what I ever made. Guess I was due." He rolls his eyes and smiles wryly as he returns the toothpick to the pouch. "If you're smart, you practice makin' small weapons," advises Fortog. "They don't take as long as bigger weapons an' you don't hafta spend as much on materials." Fortog chuckles to himself, "You shoulda seen the little halfer that come through here t'other day. He had a forging hammer the size of my dinner spoon! I wouldn't wanna think how long he'd hafta hammer away with that tiny thing on the blade of a flamberge. 'Course, it woulda left such small hammer marks that I bet he don't need to polish much! "You know, the Baron's daughter come through here just as they was finishin' buildin' it all. Come through doin' a looksee an' all with a half-dozen guards all in that swan livery of theirs," says Fortog proudly. "Least I'm pretty sure that's who she was..." "You ever seen that big bull-centaur guy that's in the Baron's guard?" asks Fortog. "I seen him once, down in 'Haven. I couldn't help thinkin' I could pro'bly beat him at arm-wrestlin'," Fortog concludes with a small smile and a gleam in his eye.