The clamor of the Anvil Tavern was sealed off by a heavy wooden door, as if two completely different worlds existed on either side. Karrion Anvil's broad back moved through a narrow back alley permeated with the scent of coal dust and metal rust, like a moving dwarf-mountain. Raine and Thalia followed silently behind, the air thick with a peculiar tension woven from a fragile alliance, a common goal, and deep distrust.
The dwarf did not lead them far. At the end of the alley, behind an inconspicuous, even somewhat dilapidated side door, lay his "territory." The door's hinge emitted a grating groan as Karrion roughly pushed it open, and a smell mingling of cooling metal, stone dust, and some pungent chemical agent hit them in the face.
This place was less a workshop than a cave stuffed with tools and materials. The space was cramped and dimly lit; only a few magic lamps with dust-proof glass covers hung overhead, emitting a feeble white light that barely illuminated the chaos. The walls were of rough stone and patched bricks, adorned with various oddly shaped tools—hammers, pliers, files, carving knives of different sizes, many bearing distinct dwarf characteristics: heavy, utilitarian, and showing clear signs of wear. In the corners, unrefined ores were piled up; some glimmered faintly while others were as black as ink, exuding an ominous aura. Several heavily worn workbenches were scattered with metal parts, leather scraps, rune sketches, and semi-finished items. In one corner, a small, seemingly makeshift furnace occupied a space, its firebox still holding dark red embers.
"Too shabby," Karrion remarked without turning his head; his voice sounded especially loud with echo in the confined space, carrying a note of derision. "It's not even one ten-thousandth as good as The Heart of Stone, but it will suffice for the task at hand." He walked to the largest workbench, where a thick, fireproof leather cover lay. Carefully, he returned the previously displayed rune bracer to its pouch, then began to scrutinize Raine and Thalia.
His gaze first fell on Raine, noting his noble attire—though dust-stained, the exquisite tailoring was still evident—and the jeweled sword at his waist. Karrion snorted, a mix of disdain and a trace of pity evident in his tone. "Boy, with that outfit you might bluff a few guards in the city, but in the Blightwood, you'd be nothing more than a beacon guiding those twisted creatures." He pointed at Raine's sword, "And as for this—nice as it is, it wouldn't even cut firewood. Against those things? Hah, unless you want to dazzle them with gems until they go blind."
A flash of embarrassment and anger crossed Raine's face, but he restrained the impulse to retort. Karrion's words, though rough, were true.
The dwarf then turned his gaze toward Thalia. She was dressed in dark, practical travel attire, with several small pouches hanging at her waist and a modest, ancient-looking dagger. Karrion's brow furrowed slightly as he seemed to appraise the hidden threat beneath what appeared to be ordinary gear. "And you," he paused, "seem to look a bit more proper. But shadow magic… it might be useful in the forest—or it might invite worse things."
Thalia simply stared at him, her ice-blue eyes showing no hint of emotion, as if Karrion's judgment did not concern her.
"Most of what you have now is useless," Karrion concluded as he picked up a half-finished metal armor plate and snapped it with his rough finger, producing a clear, crisp sound. "I need time—to redesign, modify, and forge. Especially weapons; against the corrupted, ordinary steel is as flimsy as paper. I need to incorporate a special alloy and engrave runes that resist corrosion and break through shadow." He glanced at the ores in the corner, "I have some supplies, but they might not be enough. We'll need to procure additional materials."
His tone was firm and irrefutable, filled with the confidence of a professional smith and absolute command over his craft. This reassured Raine somewhat; at least in terms of equipment, they had found a reliable expert.
"While I work, you, witch," Karrion said as he set down the armor plate and turned his attention to Thalia, "you'd best teach this naïve Dawnstar boy a lesson about the place you're about to march to his death."
Thalia nodded slightly as if she had anticipated such an arrangement. She stepped toward the more open and dimly lit center of the room, where the shifting shadows of the low light made her appear even more mysterious.
"Blightwood," she began, her voice steady and clear, like cold stream water flowing over stones, immediately over the occasional crackle from the furnace, "was not always as it is now. According to some ancient records, it was once a vibrant, life-filled forest that even harbored faint starlight energy. But after the curse of the 'Void's Throat' descended, everything changed."
Her gaze swept over Raine and Karrion, the latter leaning against the workbench with arms crossed, his face a complex blend of pained memories and attentive listening.
"The essence of corruption is to devour and twist," Thalia continued, her tone devoid of emotion, as if stating a cold fact, "it erodes every living thing—be it plant, animal, or... other existence. The trees you see in the forest may no longer be ordinary. Their roots will twist like venomous snakes wrapping around their prey, their trunks seeping corrosive, black sap, and some may even emit beguiling illusions or deadly spores."
She paused to let the information sink in. "For instance, the 'Wailing Vines' mimic the cry of an infant to lure travelers close, only to entangle and strangle them with barbed tendrils, draining their life force. And the 'Shadow Mushrooms,' growing in the darkest corners, can release a spore cloud that paralyzes the nervous system, allowing their mycelium to slowly cover and decompose the victim."
Raine felt a chill up his spine, his face paling. These descriptions were far more specific and terrifying than any legend he had heard before.
"And animals, too," Thalia said evenly, "when corrupted, become more bloodthirsty and frenzied, their forms and strength mutating. You might encounter 'Corrupted Terror Wolves' with extra limbs and black, pus-like ooze oozing from their eyes—their howls hitting you straight in the mind. There are also 'Mud Worms' lurking in the swamps, capable of disguising themselves as mud, ready to drag unsuspecting prey into the abyss. Even more dangerous are those magical creatures whose powers, when corrupted, become even more bizarre and lethal."
"Aside from these 'locals'," Thalia's eyes deepened, "the forest is also haunted by other entities: lost souls, spectres bound by corruption, and even... certain failed experimental creatures. They vary in form, but all harbor a bitter, vengeful hatred for the living."
Karrion let out a heavy snort—a silent confirmation of Thalia's description. His clenched fist betrayed his inner turmoil.
"Finally, and the most easily overlooked danger," Thalia emphasized, "is the environment itself. The air in the Blightwood is thick with corrosive particles that, over time, can damage the respiratory system and even erode the mind, inducing hallucinations and frenzy. Water sources are mostly contaminated, and the soil is soft and unstable, prone to sudden collapse or quicksand. Navigation becomes nearly impossible as even the starlight is almost entirely obscured, rendering ordinary methods futile."
Her description ended, and a brief silence fell over the workshop, punctuated only by the faint humming of the magic lamps. Raine felt a deep chill rising in his heart—the danger of the Blightwood far exceeded his imagination. It was not merely a geographic hazard, but a living, malevolent being.
"So," Thalia's gaze returned to Raine, now imbued with an unprecedented seriousness, "once inside, you must remain on constant high alert. Trust nothing you see; do not touch any unknown plant; do not drink any unverified water. Most importantly," she stressed, her tone heavy, "we must operate as a team. We cover each other, support each other, and under no circumstance may we scatter. Even the slightest carelessness could doom us all."
Raine nodded vigorously, committing Thalia's warning firmly to heart. He then looked at Karrion, who still maintained a cold, hardened expression, though his eyes now held a greater gravity.
"She's right, boy." Finally, Karrion spoke in a hoarse voice. "In that cursed place, out of a hundred people who go in, it would be lucky if even one makes it out. Without thorough preparation and absolute caution, you're just walking to your death." He straightened up, stepping in front of Raine, his gray eyes fixed intently on him. "Now, it's your turn to uphold your promise."
Raine felt his heart tighten, understanding exactly what the dwarf was referring to.
"I need to study the best way to activate the runes." Karrion extended a rough, massive hand, "I require your blood. Not just a few drops—a good amount—to perform initial tests and analysis. To see what is so special about your 'Starborne blood' and how much rune energy it can channel."
Despite his prior mental preparation, Raine felt a wave of discomfort. He instinctively glanced at his right arm, where the wound inflicted by Thalia's dagger had long since healed, yet the memory of the drained strength still lingered. For a Starborne, blood was more than the liquid of life—it carried the essence of a power, an inherent curse and a gift.
Taking a deep breath, Raine suppressed his hesitation. This was part of the bargain—the price for obtaining Karrion's help, and the key to enabling their passage through the Blightwood to reach the Fallenstar Citadel.
"Alright," Raine nodded, rolling up his left sleeve to expose his relatively uninjured arm.
Karrion picked up a set of rather precise tools from the workbench—a slender silver needle at its tip inscribed with tiny runes, and a small transparent crystal vial. His movements were skilled and steady, without any hesitation.
"Relax." Karrion murmured as he, with calloused but deft fingers, grasped Raine's arm. The moment the silver needle pierced his skin, a slight sting was felt.
Raine saw his bright red blood flow out along the needle, dripping into the crystal vial. Unlike others' blood, his seemed to faintly emit a silvery glow reminiscent of stardust when exposed to air and light.
Though it was only a few drops, Raine immediately felt a familiar weakness set in—subtle yet unmistakable. It was as if a slight current was being drawn from his body, bringing a brief dizziness and a tinge of cold. Once again, he was reminded of the inherent cost of wielding his power—the fact that every time he tapped into it, he lost a bit, a silent warning that what he possessed was not without its burden.
Karrion carefully replaced the vial's cap and stored it in a small box with rune locks. The vial's contents shone like melted rubies, flickering with a mysterious radiance. He studied the vial in the light of the magic lamp, his gray eyes flashing with a mix of surprise and concentration, murmuring in dwarf runic tongue that Raine could not understand.
"Indeed... very pure... the energy contained is even more active than I anticipated..."
Thalia stood by silently, watching the scene. In the dim light, her face appeared even paler, and in her ice-blue eyes there flickered a complex emotion, fleeting and too fast to be captured. Her hand at her side curled ever so slightly at the fingertips.
This offering of blood, like an unspoken ritual, deepened the fragile bond among the three. Raine had fulfilled his promise, and Karrion had acquired the medium he needed for his research. Trust, like the first crack in solid ice, began to slowly spread. Yet with this nascent trust came even greater suspicion and uncertainty. Raine wasn't sure how Karrion would use his blood; Thalia's secrets remained shrouded, and he himself was increasingly bewildered by the power within him—a power that was as much a hope as it was a burden.
"Alright," Karrion said as he carefully put away the crystal vial into his rune-locked box, "in the next few days, I'll work at full throttle. You'd better not be idle either. We need to replenish some basic supplies—food, potable water, bandages, and antidotes... I'm not responsible for those." He handed Raine a short list, "The Muddy Market in the west of the city should have most of it, but be careful—it's no friendly place."
Raine took the list and nodded.
"I'll gather some special herbs and reagents," Thalia added, "perhaps they can neutralize some of the toxic miasma of the Blightwood, or assist us in a crucial moment." She didn't specify where to find them—only that it was part of the plan.
With their tasks assigned, the three prepared to act. Just as Raine and Thalia were about to leave the workshop and head for the Muddy Market, Karrion called them back.
"Wait," the dwarf said, frowning as if recalling something, his gaze sweeping over them with wariness, "there's one more thing." He looked at both of them, his tone cautious, "lately, the atmosphere in the city has been off. Particularly... those white-robed Church types seem more active than usual."
Raine's heart stirred as he remembered the vague, watchful glances he had seen outside the Anvil Tavern.
"The Church?" Raine asked, "What about them?"
"Hard to say exactly," Karrion shook his head, "but just a hunch. In the past few days, while I've been out gathering news and materials, I've felt as if someone were watching me. Not ordinary riffraff or petty thieves—their eyes... are very different. And I've seen, twice now, people dressed in plain clothes but with a crest of 'Eternal Radiance' on their sleeves or collars, lurking nearby."
Thalia's expression darkened imperceptibly. "The Church's stance on Starborne blood and corruption has always been... ambiguous," she said slowly, "they claim corruption is 'divine retribution,' a symbol of the world's depravity. They covet the power of the stars on one hand, and on the other, they regard it as heresy and a potential threat—especially when starlight becomes intertwined with corruption." Her gaze shifted to Raine, "They have likely taken notice of you, a descendant of the Dawnstar family. The auction of the Fallen Stone, the uniqueness of your blood... these could very well arouse their suspicion."
A chill ran down Raine's spine. He had always believed his greatest enemy was the corruption—that unknown force that might have trapped his sister. But now it appeared that internal human forces could also be lethal threats. The Church—a hugely influential organization on the Etherian continent—if they were to regard him as a heretic or a harbinger of disaster...
"What will they do?" Raine asked, his voice hoarse.
"It's too soon to say," Thalia shook her head, "perhaps just watch him, or maybe... worse. In any case, we must be doubly cautious. Not only must we guard against the monsters in the forest, but also against the shadows cast by 'the Light.'"
Karrion snorted, "In short, don't cause trouble. Get your supplies quickly, and then we'll prepare to leave this miserable place. The sooner the better."
Raine and Thalia exchanged looks, both seeing deep gravity in each other's eyes.
Leaving Karrion's hidden workshop, they returned to the city streets. The sunlight seemed almost glaring, but at that moment, Raine no longer felt its warmth—instead, he sensed an omnipresent scrutiny. He instinctively tugged at his collar, as if attempting to hide himself.
They headed toward the Muddy Market in the west of the city—a chaotic, noisy, and diverse place filled with both legal and illegal transactions. The two kept a low profile and quickly purchased the required supplies from the list.
As Raine bent down to examine a bundle of herbs for quality, Thalia gently touched his arm. Raine looked up and followed her gaze.
In a nondescript corner of the market, a person in a gray linen robe and hood was standing with his back turned, seemingly selecting some fruit. Yet his posture was stiff, and in the shadow of his hood, Raine caught a glimpse of a sharp gaze fixed in their direction. What made Raine's heart sink further was that at the ankle barely visible from beneath the hem of his robe, there was a delicate silver chain—used by low-ranking Church clerics to secure a holy emblem.
Almost simultaneously, Raine sensed another scrutinizing gaze from the opposite side. He quickly turned his head and saw a woman haggling with a vendor. She wore a simple ring on her finger; on its side was engraved a tiny symbol of a crossed scepter—the emblem of the Church's Tribunal.
It wasn't an illusion.
They were indeed being watched.
Without drawing attention, Raine and Thalia completed their purchases and quickly left the Muddy Market, merging into the bustling crowd and winding their way back to Karrion's workshop.
Back in that small, metal-and-dust-filled space, they quietly put down the supplies they had bought. The earlier events weighed on their hearts like a heavy stone.
"It looks like we must set out quickly," Raine said in a low voice, tinged with subtle weariness and urgency.
Karrion, who had been studying the vial of Starborne blood, looked up, glanced at the supplies they had gathered, and then at their solemn expressions, nodding.
"Indeed," the dwarf said gravely, turning his attention back to his research on the blood, though his shoulders tensed further, "the storm... is coming."
Silence fell over the workshop once more, punctuated only by the intermittent sound of Karrion hammering metal and grinding materials. But this time, the atmosphere carried not only the tension of preparing for battle but also a pervasive shadow cast by the Church. Ahead, the Blightwood was fraught with crises, and behind, the city was no longer safe. Their journey had never been meant to be peaceful.