Rainoga

Tucked away on a soot-streaked side street near the Seatower of Balduran, Maltz’s Weapon Shop is a no-frills establishment known for reliability over flair. Owned and operated by the grizzled weaponsmith Harven Maltz, a veteran of the Flaming Fist himself, the shop supplies standard-issue gear to the mercenary company and repairs arms battered by patrols along the Chionthar. While Maltz keeps a modest selection of basic swords, spears, and shields for sale to the public, his priority clientele remains the city’s enforcers. Rumors claim that Maltz occasionally upgrades gear off the books for trusted Fist captains, tweaking balance, reinforcing hilts, or sharpening blades with an edge that whispers when drawn. Honest, efficient, and blunt as a hammer, Maltz’s is where soldiers go when they want gear that works—nothing more, nothing less.

The building is squat and square, its timbered frame scorched dark from years of forge-smoke. A simple iron anvil sign swings over the lintel, and the constant clink of hammer on steel echoes faintly through the alley. The scent of iron filings, sweat, and coal dust clings to the air. Inside, the heat is immediate, the forge glowing orange in a corner while racks of utilitarian weapons line the walls—no ornamentation, just function. A broad counter stands between the public and the work area, burn-scarred and gouged from years of use. Harven Maltz, sleeves rolled and apron ash-stained, barely looks up as customers enter. The mood is pragmatic, the space worn, but everything here has been built to last.