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There was a thump from the doorway of Ifrit's shop. A tall Demon ducked even more as he entered, standing head and shoulders above the rest of the room.He grunted and muttered under his breath. "Why are these lesser races always so short..."

Ignacio looked around as he straightened up, looking around the shop. "Ifrit! I was wondering if you had any odd materials leftover. My current project is at a bit of a standstill so I'm looking for some fresh ideas."

That project, the production of magic homing bullets, was proving to be more problematic than he expected. Either there was an alchemical material he had yet to discover or a he required the help of a mage of some sort. Something to distract him might give him some new insight to the problem.