The shelves of this particularly cramped shop are crooked and packed with all manner of weapons and armor. The odors of rust and preserving oils intermingle in the dusty air. Behind the L-shaped counter stuck as an apparent afterthought in one crowded corner, one can usually find the proprietor, Charles Habeas. You see an anvil here. A smithing forge is here. A smith's hammer is here. Also here: Charles Habeas Obvious exits: Out