crafter

They did not move when the Crafter shot by them.

I was the one met this Crafter, set up the first trade.

They barely got on before the Crafter started off at high speed.

It was fully five times larger than any Crafter he had ever seen.

But the Crafter had never known that itself was a tool of another presence.

Before I had even reached the door, the crafter was back among the finishes.

He pointed at the Crafter, which now was backing away.

He led the team directly away from the motionless Crafter.

He used one of the key cylinders the Crafter had given him.

The other crafter I did not know also stepped up to the chairs.

"You do run a different business, crafter, but to each his own.

The Crafter would reappear only when the job was done.

The Crafter went even faster, as if it sensed something.

You may actually have a future as a wood crafter."

"Well, this crafter is going back to working on a desk that should already have been finished."

The Crafter was not in the open space beyond.

To come here at all meant placing your trust in the Crafter.

He saw that the Crafter had stopped not for them but because this was a new manufacturing complex.

The Crafter had to twist and work its way through the labyrinth.

"His wounds will take about an hour to heal," the crafter said.

He could see nothing on this side of the Crafter that could have made the sound.

The Crafter had not moved since they jumped off.

The Crafter itself stopped, its engines spun down to silence.

Before playing professional golf, Crafter worked as a pharmacist for three years.

"Do you know any crafter who might be able to use a junior journeyman?"