The sweltering heat of the furnace radiated through the shop, making beads of sweat collect on Pablo’s forehead. He wiped them away, exhaling towards the fire. Summer was approaching. He stoked the flames, eyeing the ores. Importing silver and gold was too expensive, so he was making homemade goods. The door chimed, and Pablo peeked around the corner. He was surprised to see Anon. “Hey, if it isn’t my favorite farmer!” he said, setting down wood and tempering the fire. Stepping closer, he leaned on the counter, grinning. “What can I do for you today, Anon?”