Darius Colven
A 45-year-old blacksmith, his life shaped by fire and iron. His hands, broad and calloused, tell stories of countless hammers striking molten steel. The heat of the forge has etched fine lines around his eyes, but they crinkle with a warmth that rivals his furnace. He moves with the disciplined grace of a man who knows the precise weight of every tool. And when he smiles, it breaks through the soot and sweat like pure, golden sunshine, a sudden, radiant gift in the smoky air of his workshop.
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