In the corner of the Anvil Tavern, the air seemed to freeze, leaving only the sound of Karrion Anvil's voice—like sandpaper scraping—and his gray eyes so sharp they could almost pierce the soul. The dim light of an oil lamp cast deep shadows on his weathered face, making him appear like a stone hardened and chilled by the relentless erosion of time.
"Your true purpose?" Karrion repeated, his low voice laced with heavy skepticism and unabashed derision. "Let me guess. Another self-righteous noble scion who, after hearing a few minstrel tales, thinks he can venture into the forbidden lands to seek lost treasures, or even more laughable, so-called 'glory'?" His gaze swept over Raine, as if stripping away every ounce of dignity that did not belong in this sordid environment, "And you," he turned toward Thalia, his brows drawing even tighter, "what are you? A shadow of some mysterious organization? Or do you simply intend to use this naive boy to further your own unspeakable ends?"
Karrion snorted, then picked up the nearly empty tin mug from the table, tilted his head back, and downed the remainder of his cheap ale in one gulp. He then slammed the mug onto the table with a dull sound. "I've seen too many like you—full of adventure and greed. Thinking you're the hero of some story, only to end up as cold bones in the land of corruption, or worse, become part of those... things." He paused, a humorless smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "Do you know why dwarves never get lost in the Blightwood?"
Raine and Thalia said nothing, silently watching him.
"Because we know reverence," Karrion continued, his voice low and forceful, as if striking an invisible alarm, "we revere the power deep within the earth, and those existences far older and mightier than us. And you 'big shots' only revere your pathetic desires." He extended a thick finger, nearly poking Raine's nose, "Boy, put away your noble airs. Here, your title and your blood mean nothing. And you, woman," he turned to Thalia, his eyes even sharper, "you have too many secrets on you—like the mists in a swamp that look harmless yet can devour everything. I don't like dealing with people I can't see through."
Raine's face turned pale from Karrion's merciless words. He wanted to retort, to explain that he wasn't chasing after some elusive glory but was seeking his missing sister and unraveling the mystery of his family. Yet when he opened his mouth, he found that any justification appeared so feeble before the dwarf's timeworn skepticism.
At that moment, the previously silent Thalia finally spoke. Her voice remained steady, like a frozen lake, revealing no emotional fluctuation, yet carrying an uncanny penetrating force that rose above the surrounding clamor.
"You're not entirely wrong, Mr. Blacksmith," Thalia said coolly, her gaze calmly meeting Karrion's piercing scrutiny. "We do have our own purpose, and we are not as unprepared or ignorant as you might imagine." She turned her head slightly, her ice-blue eyes glancing at Raine, "This descendant of the Dawnstar family may seem out of place, but the blood that flows in his veins is... special."
Her words were deftly chosen, neither directly revealing Raine's "Starborne" identity nor detailing the nature of his special blood, but just enough to pique Karrion's curiosity and to provide a reason for Raine's existence that went beyond that of a naive noble. Thalia paused, studying the subtle change in Karrion's expression, and continued, "We've uncovered some clues that point to the legendary Fallenstar Citadel. And the only path to reach it is to traverse..."
She deliberately paused, then clearly uttered those two words: "the Blightwood."
The words "the Blightwood" struck the air like ice plunged into molten metal, instantly provoking a fierce reaction around Karrion.
The dwarf abruptly raised his head, and his once murky gray eyes suddenly erupted with a terrifying intensity, as if a volcano, pent-up for a thousand years, were about to erupt. He glared at Thalia, then turned to Raine—the sneer and suspicion on his face vanished, replaced by an indescribable mix of shock, pain, anger, and a searing, profound hatred. His thick fingers clenched instinctively, the knuckles whitening with force; the ancient rune tattoos on his arm seemed to come alive under the light, faintly exuding a repressive and dangerous aura.
"Blightwood..." Karrion's voice became hoarse, as if squeezed from the depths of his throat, the sound grating like metal on stone, "you're going there?"
His reaction was so intense that even the noisy tavern patrons at nearby tables fell silent for a moment, casting curious or wary glances. But Karrion paid them no heed; his entire world seemed to collapse under the weight of the word "Blightwood," leaving only these two reckless interlopers before him.
"Why?" he roared, his voice filled with an almost incomprehensible pain, "Why go to that cursed place? There's nothing there! Only death! Only despair! Only..." His voice choked, as if something invisible had seized his throat.
He suddenly grabbed the mug from the table, intending to down another swig, only to find it long empty. Irritated, he slammed the mug on the table again, and then, as if completely drained of energy, sank back into his chair. The surrounding clamor rose once more, drowning out the brief silence of their corner.
Karrion remained silent for a long while, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in violent spasms. His gray eyes lost their focus, as if gazing through the murk of the tavern toward a distant past consumed by darkness. In the dim light, the wrinkles on his face deepened—each one seeming to bear a tale of blood and sorrow.
Raine and Thalia said nothing, waiting silently. They could feel the almost suffocating sadness and anger emanating from the dwarf.
After a long while, Karrion broke the silence again, his voice low and hoarse, carrying a heart-wrenching emptiness. "Do you know... what corruption is?" He didn't look at them; instead, he stared at the scarred tabletop as if it mirrored an unforgettable nightmare.
"I once had a home," his voice was soft yet struck Raine's heart like a heavy blow, "a mountain city we dwarves called 'The Heart of Stone.' It was carved out of the northern mountains by the sweat and wisdom of our ancestors. There were the deepest veins, the hottest forges, the strongest ale—and all my kin."
His voice trembled slightly as his rugged hand clenched into a fist, his nails digging into his palm.
"We thought the mountains were an eternal shield, that our runes could ward off all evil. We were too confident, too... foolish." Karrion's tone was laden with self-mockery and endless regret, "Then one day, the shadows descended without warning. Not from an external invasion, but from deep within the earth... from the very lowest depths of our proud veins."
"At first, there were only strange whispers, missing miners, and mutated livestock. The elders thought it might be some unknown mineral radiation, or that an ancient curse had been awakened. We strengthened the rune seals, held sacrificial ceremonies—but nothing worked."
"Corruption spread too quickly. It fanned out like a plague, twisting our solid rock, polluting our clear springs, and eroding both our bodies and souls. I saw with my own eyes... my neighbor, a strong miner, whose skin melted like wax, his eyes oozing black pus, his mouth emitting a cry not belonging to any living creature, before he pounced on his own family."
"I saw with my own eyes... our revered rune guardians—those war machines forged from meteoric iron and ancestral blood—shatter and twist like fragile clay in the face of corruption, becoming monsters that slaughter their own kin."
"I saw with my own eyes... our great mountain city, 'The Heart of Stone,' turn into a living hell within mere days. The air reeked of blood and decay, and the rock walls were covered with writhing dark tendrils; our once beloved home became a nest for abominations."
Karrion's voice dwindled, nearly into an inaudible mutter. He lowered his head, his broad shoulders trembling as if bearing immense grief. Raine could even see murky tears slipping from the corners of his weathered eyes, falling onto his oil-stained apron and leaving dark stains.
"I am a runic blacksmith," he suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, his voice hoarse and resolute, "responsible for maintaining the city's defensive runes. When corruption broke out, I was down in the lowest furnace repairing a critical node. The high temperatures and rune energy there temporarily held back the corruption, but they also severed my connection to the outside world. By the time I finally carved a path to escape..."
He paused, taking a deep breath that reeked of blood.
"'The Heart of Stone'... is no more. All that remains is a silent wasteland, with nauseating shadow energy swirling overhead. My family, my friends, my kin... are all gone."
"I barely escaped, becoming the sole survivor of 'The Heart of Stone.' From that day on, I wandered this continent like a lost soul. My only purpose in life now is to find the root of this corruption, to track down the bastard who spreads this disaster, and then..." His teeth chattered as he spoke, his eyes burning with vengeful fire, "to smash them into pulp with my hammer!"
Karrion's tale was not long nor embellished with fancy words, yet the pain, despair, and hatred within it were as heavy as if made of solid stone, nearly suffocating Raine. He finally understood why dwarves reacted so intensely to the words "Blightwood." It was not merely a name, but a wound in their hearts—a source of all their suffering.
Thalia listened silently, her ice-blue eyes unchanging, though Raine noticed that her hand beneath the table curled slightly at the fingertips.
After Karrion's burst of emotion, a long silence followed. He picked up a tool from the table again, but instead of continuing to wipe it, he held it numbly, his eyes vacant as he gazed into the void. The tavern's clamor seemed unable to penetrate this corner shrouded in sorrow.
Finally, Karrion broke the silence. He took a deep breath, as if trying to suppress all his pain, and looked once more at Raine and Thalia. His eyes, though still guarded, no longer held the cold indifference and derision of before; instead, they were filled with a heavy scrutiny.
"Now, tell me," his voice was still hoarse but carried a note of finality, "what is your purpose in venturing into the Blightwood, into the Fallenstar Citadel? If it's merely to hunt for treasure or to march to your deaths, then get lost and don't bother me. But if... if your goal also relates to this damned corruption—"
Raine glanced at Thalia, and she nodded slightly. Summoning his courage, Raine met Karrion's gaze, striving to keep his voice calm and resolute: "We're not here for treasure. I go to the Fallenstar Citadel to find my sister—she is trapped there, at least that is what my visions have shown. And it all seems to be connected to an entity that spreads the corruption."
"Visions?" Karrion frowned, his eyes lingering on Raine as if evaluating the truth of his words, "The precognitive ability of the Starborne?" He appeared to possess some knowledge of Starborne blood.
"As for me," Thalia interjected, her tone still flat, "my goal is to halt the spread of corruption, to find and destroy its source. The Fallenstar Citadel likely holds the key."
Karrion studied them in silence, his gray eyes flickering with complex light. After a long moment, he slowly nodded. "Very well," he said in a deep tone. "Since your goals all point to that accursed forest and that floating tomb, and since they are inseparable from corruption, then—"
He carefully set his tool back onto the cloth, then unstrapped a heavy leather pouch from his waist. From it, he retrieved an object and placed it on the table.
It was a metal bracer, about the size of a hand, of simple design, etched with intricate and profound runes. These runes were not mere decoration; they seemed to contain some latent power, faintly glowing in the dim light—a stark contrast to the squalid air around.
"This is something I forged," Karrion said, pointing to the bracer with a trace of understated pride, "a testament to dwarven runic craftsmanship combined with some lost lore. These runes can resist the encroachment of shadows, and even... damage that which has been corrupted." He looked up at Raine and Thalia, "In the Blightwood, twisted beasts abound. Without special protection and weapons, you won't get more than a hundred steps before becoming their dinner."
"I can help you," Karrion continued, his tone unwavering, "I can forge weapons and armor that will allow you to traverse the Blightwood and combat those creatures. I can... accompany you."
Raine's heart leapt with relief, ready to express gratitude, but was interrupted by Karrion's next words.
"But I have conditions." Karrion's gaze grew as sharp as a freshly quenched steel blade from his forge.
"First," he said, raising a thick finger, "if, within the Blightwood or the Fallenstar Citadel, we find any clues about the destruction of the 'Heart of Stone,' or if we encounter the culprit behind the corruption, you must fully aid me in avenging it. This is my oath and the promise you must keep."
Raine and Thalia exchanged a glance and both nodded. Concerning a shared enemy, this condition was only natural.
"Second," Karrion raised a second finger, his gaze turning to Raine with a mix of caution and inquiry, "I can forge weapons and armor to counter ordinary corrupted creatures. But to handle even greater forces, perhaps... to seal the shadows themselves, ordinary materials and runes will not suffice."
He paused, speaking each word with a clear and heavy tone, "I need a medium—a medium capable of harnessing the purest life energy and converting it to counter the power of the void. According to the oldest dwarven runic records, and through my years of wandering research... there is only one thing that meets these requirements."
His eyes locked onto Raine's, as if trying to see into the depths of his soul.
"That is... your blood." Karrion said slowly, "pure, imbued with the power of the stars... Starborne blood."
"I need your blood, boy," Karrion stated flatly, his voice void of emotion, yet sending a shiver down Raine's spine, "not just a few drops, but perhaps a good amount—to activate the most powerful runes I will forge. This is my second, and most important, condition."
His words echoed through the noisy tavern corner, laden with the weight of an ancient covenant.
Starborne blood.
Raine's heart sank. He instinctively covered his injured right arm; the blood that had just flowed still throbbed. He had never imagined that the very blood his family regarded as a curse—a source of endless pain and peril—would be seen as so important by another, even to the extent of being a key condition in an alliance.
He looked to Thalia, seeking an answer or some advice from her eyes. But Thalia merely watched him silently, her ice-blue gaze deep as the night sky, revealing no hint of emotion. The choice, it seemed, lay with him.
The air grew heavy once more. Karrion Anvil, the dwarf runic blacksmith laden with a history of blood-soaked grudges, had now laid out his true card and conditions. To accept them meant treading a path filled with unknown dangers and sacrifices, but it might be the only way to reach the truth—and to exact vengeance. To refuse would mean losing a powerful ally and facing the devouring Blightwood alone.
Raine took a deep breath, suppressing the unease and doubts swirling within him. For the sake of his sister, for unraveling his family's mystery, and to combat the shadows that engulf the entire world, he had no other choice.
He raised his head, meeting Karrion's eyes—those eyes like dusted steel—with solemn determination, and nodded.
"I agree."
Thus, three individuals from different backgrounds, each burdened with their own secrets and scars, forged a fragile yet weighty alliance in that grim corner of the Anvil Tavern. The road ahead remained dark and long, fraught with unknown perils and challenges, but at least now they were not alone.