Watcher of Fate

The feast hall of the goblin king was a grand spectacle of goblin culture and craftsmanship. The vast chamber was carved from the very rock of the cavern, its high ceilings supported by massive stone pillars adorned with intricate carvings depicting the Blackfang Clan’s victories and legends. Bioluminescent fungi and glowing crystals illuminated the hall with soft, otherworldly light, casting shimmering patterns on the stone walls.

The room was filled with goblins, hobgoblins, and even a rare ogre, all seated at long wooden tables laden with an assortment of foods and drinks. The air was filled with the rich, savory aromas of roasted meats, spiced stews, and freshly baked bread. Large platters of grilled mushrooms, exotic fruits, and hearty pies were passed around, the food as abundant as it was diverse. Goblets of a dark, frothy brew were raised in frequent toasts, the clinking of metal cups adding to the festive atmosphere.

The goblins chattered animatedly, a lively hum filling the air. Hobgoblins, with their more disciplined demeanor, sat in orderly rows, their eyes alert and watchful. The rare ogre, massive and imposing, sat at a specially reinforced table, its deep-set eyes observing the proceedings with a mix of curiosity and pride. The sounds of laughter, clinking dishes, and occasional bursts of song created a lively, warm environment.

At the head of the hall, King Zogar sat on an ornate throne, symbolizing his authority and the respect he commanded. The throne was intricately carved with battle scenes and festooned with dark banners bearing the Blackfang Clan's emblem. Elara, an honored guest among the Blackfang Clan, was seated to his right. To her left, a stunning female goblin sat with a similar crown to the king’s, her presence commanding attention. Elara’s eyes were drawn to her, and a magic information box appeared above her head.

[Lvl 26 Goblin Blacksmith (Rare)]

King Zogar stood, raising his goblet to call for silence. The hall quickly quieted, all eyes turning to their king. "My clan," he began, his voice resonating through the hall, "we are honored tonight by the presence of our champion, Elara, who has agreed to aid us in recovering our sacred relic."

He turned to Elara, gesturing to the female goblin beside her. "Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Grelka, the finest blacksmith in all of Ebonreach."

Grelka nodded gracefully to Elara, her eyes sparkling with intelligence and strength. "It is an honor to meet the warrior who has earned my husband’s respect," she said, her voice melodic yet firm.

As they spoke, goblin jugglers and acrobats began their performance. The jugglers, clad in colorful, patchwork costumes, juggled an array of objects, including knives, flaming torches, and even small barrels. They moved with astonishing agility, their hands a blur as they kept multiple items aloft. Equally mesmerizing acrobats performed flips and somersaults through the air, forming human pyramids and leaping from one set of hands to another with effortless grace. One particularly daring act involved an acrobat walking on a thin, suspended rope, balancing on one leg while juggling flaming torches.

Elara and Grelka continued their conversation past King Zogar, who watched them with mild amusement. Grelka's excitement was evident as she discussed her craft. "I’ve always been fascinated by the unique properties of ebon wood," Grelka said, her eyes lighting up. "When properly treated, it can be used to create Living Steel, a material unmatched in strength and flexibility."

Elara nodded, intrigued. "Living Steel? I've heard tales of it, but I’ve never seen it in person. What’s the process like?"

Grelka leaned in, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "The creation of Living Steel is shrouded in mystery. Many key elements of the process have been lost to time. However, I have dedicated my life to studying it. The process begins with harvesting ebon wood at just the right age. Too young, and it lacks the necessary strength; too old, and it becomes brittle. Once harvested, it’s infused with mana, which binds the wood fibers and creates a living matrix. This matrix is then melded with high-quality steel, resulting in an incredibly durable and slightly flexible material."

Elara could feel Grelka’s passion for her craft. "That sounds incredible. The mana infusion must be particularly challenging."

"It is," Grelka agreed, her smile widening. "But it’s worth it. The end result is a weapon or piece of armor that can withstand tremendous force while maintaining its integrity. However, our version of Living Steel is but a pale imitation of the true process. Our alloy is more brittle and lacks the growth aspect of the real thing. True Living Steel can repair itself and even grow stronger over time. Rediscovering the full process of creating genuine Living Steel would revolutionize our world and elevate our clan's standing immensely."

Elara’s eyes widened with realization. "So, the relic your husband wants me to retrieve—"

"Is a Living Steel spear," Grelka confirmed, her expression growing serious. "It’s an artifact passed down from king to king, a symbol of our heritage and a link to the ancient knowledge we’ve lost. If we can recover it, we might be able to unlock the secrets of true Living Steel."

Elara felt the weight of the task settling over her. "Then it's more important than ever that we succeed."

As Grelka spoke, the jugglers and acrobats continued their dazzling performance. One juggler sent a set of knives spinning high into the air, catching them effortlessly, while another acrobat launched into a series of backflips, landing perfectly each time. The crowd’s cheers and applause filled the hall, adding to the vibrant energy of the evening.

Elara couldn’t help but smile at the sight, feeling a sense of belonging amidst the goblin clan. The warmth and camaraderie in the hall were evident, and she knew she had found allies in this underground kingdom. The feast continued as the night wore on, filled with laughter, stories, and the promise of new adventures.

---

Elara woke up in a comfortable bed, the soft glow of bioluminescent fungi casting a gentle light over her room. The stone walls were adorned with intricate carvings, and the air was cool and fresh. The events of the previous night’s feast with the Goblin King played through her mind, filling her with a sense of purpose.

A gentle knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts. "Elara, are you awake?" Grelka's voice called softly.

Elara quickly dressed and opened the door to find Grelka standing there with a warm smile. "Good morning," Grelka greeted. "Would you like a tour of our town?"

"That sounds wonderful," Elara replied, returning the smile.

They made their way through the winding stone corridors of the goblin stronghold and out into the bustling town. The underground city was alive with activity, goblins of all ages going about their daily routines. The streets were lined with vendors selling various goods, from freshly baked bread to intricately crafted weapons. The scent of food mingled with the earthy aroma of the cavern, creating an inviting atmosphere.

As they walked, Grelka pointed out different landmarks and explained their significance. "This is the market square," she said, gesturing to a large open area filled with stalls. "It’s the heart of our town. Over there is the blacksmith’s forge, where I spend most of my time."

Elara marveled at the sight, surprised by how many goblins she saw. "I didn’t realize there were so many of you," she said, her eyes wide.

Grelka's expression darkened slightly. "Yes, we are many," she said, leading Elara to a breakfast vendor. They purchased steaming bowls of porridge and sat down on a nearby bench to eat.

As they ate, Grelka continued. "Do you know why there are so many of us?" she asked, her voice tinged with anger. "It’s because the system forces us to send waves of goblins to their deaths. To support those waves, over 1,500 goblins are born every month. They grow up just to die at the hands of adventurers because the dungeon requires it."

Elara looked at Grelka, her heart heavy with sympathy. "I’m so sorry," she said softly. "I didn’t know."

Grelka shook her head. "It’s not your fault," she replied, her eyes filled with a mix of frustration and sadness. "I didn’t see the problem either until King Zogar opened my eyes. Most goblins can’t understand the concept. The dungeon keeps them from knowing. It’s a cycle of death that we’re trapped in."

Elara placed a comforting hand on Grelka’s shoulder. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I’ll do everything I can to help."

Grelka shrugged, her expression resigned. "You can’t change our fate any more than you can change our island from floating."

Elara honed in on the word "fate" but decided to respond with a lighthearted answer first. "Islands don’t float outside the dungeon," she said with a small smile. "And I happen to be an expert at changing fate."

Elara activated her skill [Thread of Fate (Legendary)], expecting to see the familiar golden thread. Instead, a vast spider web of golden threads of fate appeared, crisscrossing the cavern's sky above her. The closest thread connected Grelka to somewhere deeper in the city. Elara was stunned by the sight, her eyes widening in disbelief.

Grelka, still analyzing Elara’s comments about islands and fate, noticed her sudden change in expression. "What is it, Elara? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Elara hesitated, her mind racing. Quill’s voice echoed in her thoughts. "We’ve always trusted fate, and right now, fate is saying Grelka has something important to do. You should tell her."

Taking a deep breath, Elara nodded. She had always relied on her skills and intuition and now was no different. "Grelka," she began, her voice steady, "I have a secret to share with you."

Grelka's eyes narrowed in curiosity, her attention fully on Elara. "What is it?"

"I have a skill called [Thread of Fate (Legendary)]," Elara explained. "It allows me to see the threads of fate that connect people and events. Usually, I see a single golden thread, but right now, I’m seeing something different." She pointed upward, tracing the intricate web of threads above them. "There’s a spider web of golden fate threads above us, and one of them connects you to somewhere deeper in the city."

Grelka looked up, though she couldn’t see the threads herself. Her face was a mix of skepticism and intrigue. "And what does that mean?"

Elara took another deep breath. "It means that fate has something planned for you. Something important. We need to follow that thread and find out what it is."

Grelka's expression softened, her curiosity piqued. "You really believe this?"

Elara nodded. "I do. And I think you should trust it too. Let’s see where fate leads us."

Grelka sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. "Alright, Elara. I trust you. Let’s follow this thread and see what fate has in store."

They followed the thread down a narrow street that wound deeper into the city. The thread led them to a bricked-up tunnel at the end of the street, pressed against the cavern wall. Elara and Grelka examined the wall closely, the old bricks weathered and covered in moss.

Grelka placed her hand on the wall, momentarily closing her eyes. "My [Earth Sense (Uncommon)] tells me there's a hollow behind this wall," she said thoughtfully.

She then called out, her voice firm. "Would my shadows please fetch the largest maul they can find and an ogre to wield it?"

Elara looked around, puzzled and skeptical. "Who are you talking to? I can’t see anyone with my [Awareness (Legendary)] skill, and nothing has ever avoided its gaze."

Grelka smiled slightly. "My husband is paranoid and insists on having shadows always protect me. They’re always nearby, even if you can’t see them."

Moments later, a massive ogre appeared from down the street, a gigantic maul slung over its shoulder. The ogre’s presence was imposing, its muscles rippling as it approached. The fact that it showed up so quickly proved Grelka right about her shadows. They had been guarding her all along, hidden even from Elara’s legendary skill.

"Smash down this wall," Grelka commanded.

The ogre’s eyes gleamed with delight at the prospect of destruction. With a roar, it swung the maul with abandon, each strike shaking the ground beneath their feet. The wall began to crumble under the onslaught, bricks flying in all directions. After several powerful swings, the wall gave way, revealing a dark tunnel beyond.

Elara and Grelka stepped cautiously into the newly revealed area. The air inside was musty and cool, the light from their surroundings barely penetrating the darkness. As they ventured further, the space opened up into a large chamber. The sight that greeted them took their breath away.

They had found an ancient forge, built during the height of the Kingdom of Ebonreach before it was shattered. The forge was a marvel of craftsmanship, with towering anvils, intricate metalwork, and large stone furnaces lined with runes that still faintly glowed with residual magic. Tools and weapons lay scattered about, covered in a thick layer of dust but remarkably well-preserved.

"This is incredible," Elara whispered, her eyes wide with awe.

Grelka nodded, her eyes shining with excitement. "This forge is from a time when Ebonreach was at its peak. It’s a relic of Ebonreach's past, filled with knowledge and power we can use."

Elara looked at the glowing runes and the ancient tools, feeling the weight of history and the possibilities that lay before them. "This is what fate led us to find," she said softly. "It’s a chance to reclaim some of the greatness of Ebonreach."

Grelka's expression was one of determination and hope. "With this forge, we are a huge step forward in rediscovering the secret of creating Living Steel, the legendary craft of Ebonreach. This metal is imbued with life, making it stronger and more resilient than anything we have today. We can use this knowledge to create weapons and armor that will help us break free from the dungeon’s cycle. We can give our people a fighting chance."

Together, they turned their focus to the ancient forge, ready to unlock the secrets of Ebonreach and forge a new future for the Blackfang Clan. As Elara stood beside Grelka, her mind raced with the possibilities and implications of their discovery. The thought of goblins armed with true Living Steel was both exhilarating and terrifying. What would such power mean for adventurers like herself? Could the fragile balance between goblins and humans be maintained? Despite her worries, Elara knew she had to trust in Fate, as she always had. The threads of destiny had led her here for a reason, and she believed they would steer her true. With a deep breath and a heart full of resolve, Elara embraced the challenge ahead, ready to reshape the future with every strike of the forge.