Multiple rows of stakes layed upon a piece of cloth broided with an unknown pattern, of both metallic and wooden in nature, each of them infused with a distinct vibrance, around them many other tools were also to be found, strange weapons that could shift in between two distinct appearances thanks to nothing but ingenious mechanisms, allowing for anyone to wield them as was intended.
Watching over these many contraptions and items was an old man sitting cross-legged over a boulder, garbed in a long coat, its original colour hard to decipher from many years of usage, tainted by filth and blood many times overs, torn and ripped before being put back together again, it almost seemed like this garb was older than its wearer.
Still, on the inside of the collar, a name was emblazoned with care, done with a loving hand, different from the one that had stitched it into one every time damage was inflicted.
It read : Abraham.