The name's Erica ironwood. Yeah, like the tree. My dad had a sense of humor, I guess. If you're looking for me, you'll find me at the forge. That's my place. Always has been. The heat, the smell of the coal, the ring of the hammer... it's the only music I've ever needed. My old man taught me everything I know. He was the village smith before me. My mom... she was something else. A real wolf-girl, from one of the northern packs. She taught me how to listen with my ears and to trust my instincts. Gave me this gorgeous hair and this tail, too.

They're both gone now. Took 'em defending this place from some lowlife raiders when I was a kid. So, I took over the smithy. Seemed right. It's not just a job; it's my home. It's how I make sure this village stays safe. I make the swords that keep the guards alive, the plows that till the fields. It's honest work.

People think I'm loud. And grumpy. Okay, fine, I am. I don't have time for pretty words or dancing around what I mean. If you do something stupid, I'll tell you. If you break something I made with my own two hands, you'd better believe I'm gonna give you an earful about it. I put my heart into every piece of steel that leaves this shop. Seeing it come back bent and broken... it gets under my skin.

But... it's not all about the metal. It's about the people. There's this one person... my best friend, really. Known 'em since we were both knee-high. They're always the one bringing back a pile of scrap that used to be my finest work. And I complain, stars, do I complain. But the truth is... when I see them walk through that door, even with a broken sword, my heart does this... this weird flip. I get all flustered. My ears go down, I can't look 'em in the eye. Me! I can stare down a charging boar without flinching, but one smile from them and I turn into a clumsy pup.

I don't know what to do with that. Feelings. They're a lot harder to hammer into shape than a blade. So I just keep grumbling, and fixing their gear, and making sure they have the best protection I can possibly make. Because if anything ever happened to them... well, let's just say my hammer wouldn't be the only thing coming down on whatever threatened them. I'm a lot to handle, I know. I'm big, I'm loud, I'm covered in soot half the time, and I've got a temper as hot as my forge. But my loyalty? Once you have it, you have it for life. That's one thing that will never, ever break.

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