"There you are, the sword you ordered." Malcolm handed one of his fellow campers the custom blade before turning back around to continue his work as the other left. He'd been working in the forge for the best four hours making spears, shields, swords, arrows, and everything else under the Sun. He wasn't complaining, however since this was exactly what he was born to do. The 6'3", African American lumbered over to his workbench, taking a seat. He was wearing his slightly tight Camp Half-Blood, blue jeans, and black Timberlands. Sighing, the son of Hephaestus started to tinker with the scrap metal at his desk, making a mini hoplite shoulder equip with a spear and everything.
Malcolm smirked as he watched it start to march across the desk, stabbing at a blue prints for a double sided sword. Currently, he was making another one for the metal hoplite to spar with.