The spy took a deep breath, and removed his hood. From his robes, he took out a symbol of Hetuis and a stone tablet of ancient draconic script. For all the world, he looked as if an acolyte priest. Slowly, he entered the smithy, and admired the steelwork. "This is very magnificent," he said, quietly, feeling the various pitchforks, shovels, and the like. "Very magnificent indeed. You must be talented in your work." Of course, he was an informed spy. He knew that it was magical influence that rendered the tools so smooth and reflective. One tip from an unsuspecting neighbor was all that was necessary for information to travel down the vast and secretive information web into the ears of countless listening ears. All one needed to do was be in the right tavern and buy certain people the right ale. He crossed over to the busy blacksmith and pretended to read from the stone tablet. "Truly, your hand must be blessed by Scen and Arda. I have never seen such precise metallurgy." He smiled then, a cold, mysterious smile. "I have a friend in the high circles of the court, by the name of Commander Mardex. Perhaps you have heard of his heroic exploits in the Third Battle of Lake Draconis. If you would like, I could put in a good word for you to him. He is, after all, a military man, and could always make use of a kobold who can work him fair swords."