Swaged
Ting. Ting. Ting. The rhythmic sound of the hammer hitting the disk of pure silver fills the surrounding air with sound. Ting. Ting. Ting. At first nothing seems to be taking place. Just the sharp sound of hard metal, ringing out into the air all around the man with the hammer. It is deafening. It is slow. It is monotonous. The heat of the afternoon… →