Huh? Are they all real?

As the girl Leda said, this blacksmith shop is really easy to find.

This is not only the only blacksmith shop owned by dwarves in the east of the city, it is even the only blacksmith shop.

From a distance, Moen saw a dwarf banging hard in front of the furnace.

He is clearly human, as he lacks the trademark beard of a dwarf.

The stature is also significantly smaller.

Obviously, this is the illegitimate son of the old lion.

I just don’t know if it’s a coincidence that he is also named Tyrion.

Moen, who remembered the famous character in "Game of Thrones", paused slightly.

He seemed to have noticed the sight behind him.

The man who was swinging the hammer looked back.

After seeing a stranger, he turned around and continued to blacksmith and said:

"I'm not a dwarf, just a damn dwarf. If you are here to discuss business, then I will be a qualified blacksmith. The same goes for everyone else in this blacksmith shop."

"But if you are here to see a joke, then just laugh, and then get out of here when you have laughed enough, otherwise my hammer will hit you on the head instead of striking iron!"

He really looks like a little devil.

It's not the appearance, it's the temperament.

At least that's what Moen thinks.

Moen smiled and said:

"I'm not here to talk business, nor am I here to laugh, sir. I'm here to talk about other things."

"Then get out of here, this is a blacksmith shop, I'm just a blacksmith."

Moen wasn't angry either. These were just sharp spikes that a poor man had developed to protect himself during his long suffering.

"Sir, what I want to talk about is related to your mother."

The sound of hammers striking forged steel stopped for the first time.

The short man turned around, holding the hammer in his hand, even though he was half a body shorter than Morn.

But Moen had no doubt that as long as he had any verbal disrespect to his mother, his hammer would break his legs first, and then smash his head.

Even Moen was sure that this might not be the first time he did this.

"You better have something nice to say, or I'll send you to hell to kiss the shit of ghosts."

"I don't mean to insult your mother or you, but can we find a place to talk?"

"Why should I ignore my work and listen to your nonsense that is probably without any nutrition?"

After glancing at Moen, the short man continued to turn around and pick up his iron.

Listen to the regular beating sound.

Moen thought for a moment and then said:

"This is not only about your mother, but also about your father."

Moen is a poor man now, and the other party is the illegitimate son of the old lion. Moen can't speak too frankly in public.

"Go away, I'm not interested in listening to your nonsense."

The dwarf on the side also came over carrying a hammer bigger than his head and said:

"I don't know what you're doing here, Longlegs. But I know Kid Tilly wants nothing to do with you. Let's go."

Looking at the opponent's hammer, Moen said with slight surprise:

"Morse's Hammer? Your ancestor was once the Kingsguard of King Turin? And this is the equipment of the second generation of the Kingsguard. It was only used for less than three years before being eliminated."

"Because even the Kingsguard among the dwarves feel that this style is too bulky. Although it is very powerful, bulky weapons are not suitable in the cruel battlefield."

This time the dwarves were surprised.

It’s not surprising that someone knows Morse’s hammer, but it’s really rare to know the one he holds.

After all, this thing was only installed for three years before being eliminated.

"Yes, this was passed down to me by my ancestor, who was once the Kingsguard of His Majesty the King of Turin!"

What surprised the dwarf even more was what happened after the long-legged man finished speaking.

He actually took off his hat, put one hand on his chest, bowed slightly and saluted himself:

"Allow me to express my gratitude for the bravery of your ancestors in the Valley of Death."

In the Battle of the Valley of Death, it was King Turin and all his Kingsguard who fought to the death to hold off the incoming army of the Bewildered Ones.

Because of this battle, Moen had the opportunity to turn defeat into victory.

But in that battle, all the Kingsguard except King Turin were killed.

In the end, King Turin personally sent away all the dwarf warriors who had turned into confused ones.

Moen didn't know how much torture it was for King Turin to kill his own people that day.

But Moen knew that since he met the descendants of those soldiers today, he should express his gratitude and respect.

There is no need for more verification. The dwarves who will hold this Morse Hammer will only be the descendants of warriors who participated in the Battle of Death Valley.

Because this one was eliminated because of its poor performance in the Valley of Death and the fact that all its users died.

The usually rugged dwarf suddenly felt flattered at this moment.

He didn't quite understand why this happened, but he suddenly felt better.

After muttering a few words, the dwarf said to Morn:

"I really don't understand why you, a long-legged man, know this, but what are you grateful for? Do you have anything to do with us dwarves?"

Moen said seriously:

"Some things transcend time, sir."

The dwarf became more and more puzzled, but he also felt more and more that this long-legged man was good.

Don't know why though.

But I unexpectedly felt that they looked right.

"Tilly, this guy looks different from the bastards before. Go talk to him. Our backyard is empty."

"Give him a barrel of good wine. You know what I'm talking about and where it's placed."

Hearing this, the dwarf Tilly looked at Morn strangely and put down his hammer and said:

"Since my boss said so. Then come over. But you are really lucky. I have only drunk the boss's wine once."

Moen quickly declined:

"My faith does not allow me to drink. I'm sorry, gentlemen."

"Ha, the faith of the long-legged people is strange. They don't allow drinking. What's the difference between that and death?"

The dwarf was dissatisfied, but that was all.

Moen probably knew what wine he was talking about.

Moen remembered that the name of that wine was Roro wine, which was brewed with a kind of maggots.

And it must be brewed with maggots fed with dwarf feces.

It is the favorite and treasure of the dwarves. Only foreigners who are very compatible with it can be invited by them to drink Roro wine.

Moen believes that this thing should be clean and hygienic, but he also believes that he can never accept it.

Moen even has a bottle of Roro wine brewed by King Turin himself, which is now kept in the treasury of the headquarters of the Central Chamber of Commerce.

Fortunately, even the most stubborn dwarves know to respect other people's beliefs.

Otherwise, whether it was then or now, Moen would really be a little overwhelmed.