Seriously, someone is going to burn the smithy down at this rate but it doesn't have to be on her watch.

"Not that I've seen," Billie answers that one easily enough. She leans forward and stabs the knife in the dirt before the steps, then leaves it there. The imbuement remains, blade still molten and now smoldering in the ground. Dirt blackens around it, grass smolders and curls away.

"I did it to my sword back when the werewolves first attacked the city. It held up to that just fine."