Thorin Hashford knew he wasn't cut out for the life his father expected. A life spent hunched over ledgers in the dimly lit offices of Hashford & Sons, a respectable accounting firm nestled in the bustling heart of Harrow. Thorin yearned for something more tangible, something that involved the rhythm of his own hands and the satisfaction of crafting something from nothing. He found solace in the cobblestone alleys and winding streets of Northwark, where his family's modest townhouse stood perched on a corner overlooking the Pilger River. It was here, amidst the scent of fresh bread wafting from the bakeries and the cheerful banter of street vendors, that Thorin discovered his passion for woodworking. He would spend hours in his father's shed, transforming discarded scraps of wood into intricate sculptures and functional objects. His nimble fingers coaxed life into rough-hewn timber, breathing new purpose into what others might have deemed useless. Thorin believed in the inherent beauty of materials, the way nature could be molded and reshaped to serve a higher purpose. He saw craftsmanship as a form of quiet rebellion against the monotonous grind of city life, a testament to the enduring power of human creativity.