She sighed, closing the journal with a snap. "Even if it could work, it's no wonder the dwarves cast him out. This goes against everything we hold sacred, everything we know."
Kael frowned, looking at the closed journal. "Maybe… but sometimes, the old ways aren't enough. Maybe Thoric saw something that others didn't, something that could change everything."
"Or destroy everything," Gwenbelle countered, her voice somber. "There's a reason we stick to tradition, Kael. There's safety in it. The forge is our lifeblood, our connection to Bezmadan. To tamper with that… it's dangerous."
Kael could see the weight of her words, the fear of the unknown, of stepping beyond the bounds of tradition. But he also saw the spark of curiosity in her eyes, the same spark that had driven Thoric to his exile.
"We don't have to use it," Kael said gently. "But maybe… maybe there's something we can learn from it. Knowledge is power, Gwenbelle. Even if we don't use it, understanding it might help us in ways we can't yet see."
The air in the subterranean chamber was thick and damp, carrying with it the lingering scent of earth and aged stone. Faint glimmers of light danced along the walls, cast by the luminescent runes that adorned the ancient masonry. Gwenbelle stood amidst the dust and relics, her gaze fixed on the weathered journal clutched tightly in her hands. The weight of their discovery hung heavily between her and Kael, the silence punctuated only by the distant drip of water echoing through the sewers.
At length, Gwenbelle broke the quiet, her voice steady but laced with contemplation. "I need to speak with Buinn about all of this," she said, her dwarven accent rolling off her tongue like gravel over stone. Her eyes flickered up to meet Kael's, searching for understanding.
Kael nodded thoughtfully, his own mind clearly turning over the implications of what they had uncovered. Dust clung to his clothes and hair, and a smudge of grime streaked across his cheek, testament to the hours spent delving into the bowels of the floating village. "What do you think he'll make of it?" he asked, his tone curious yet cautious.
Gwenbelle sighed, tucking a stray lock of fiery red hair behind her ear. "Buinn is a keeper of lore, steeped in the traditions and histories of our people. This discovery... it challenges much of what we thought we knew. He'll have insight, perhaps questions I haven't considered." She paused, glancing around the chamber one last time before closing the journal and securing it within her satchel. "But I believe he'll see the truth of it, as I have."
As they began to make their way back through the labyrinthine tunnels, Kael's footsteps echoed softly alongside hers, the dampness of the stone underfoot seeping through their boots. The air grew marginally fresher as they ascended, but the musk of the sewers still clung to them like an unwelcome shroud.
"So, what does this mean for your journey to the outpost?" Kael asked, casting a sidelong glance at Gwenbelle. His eyes gleamed with curiosity, reflecting the soft glow of the runes as they passed. "Are you still intent on going there, or has this discovery changed your plans?"
Gwenbelle considered his question for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "I think our path has shifted," she admitted, her voice echoing softly against the stone walls. "From what we've found, it's evident that much of the Stonehearth Outpost's essence has already been integrated into this floating village. The runes, the architecture, even the very foundations... it's all here, beneath our feet."
Kael nodded, a hint of relief crossing his features. "That spares us a dangerous journey, then. The lands between here and the outpost are treacherous, crawling with beasts and who knows what else."
A wry smile tugged at Gwenbelle's lips. "Aye, and we've had our fill of peril for the time being, I think." She brushed a layer of dust from her leather armor, wrinkling her nose as a fresh wave of the sewer's aroma wafted up. "Better to consolidate what we have here, understand it fully, before venturing into more unknowns."
They reached the base of the stairwell that led up to the main levels of the village, the air growing noticeably cleaner as a faint breeze drifted down from above. Kael paused, inhaling deeply and grimacing slightly as the lingering stench filled his lungs.
"I think I need a thorough wash before I do anything else," he remarked, a note of humor creeping into his voice as he eyed the dirt and grime coating his hands. "No matter how well-maintained these sewers are, they still leave their mark."
Gwenbelle chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "You humans and your delicate senses. This is nothing compared to the depths of the mines back home. A bit of earth and musk never hurt anyone."
Kael raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "I suppose spending generations underground dulls the nose a bit. Maybe I should consider it an acquired scent."
She laughed, the sound hearty and genuine, echoing pleasantly through the corridor. "Perhaps so. Though I must admit, a warm bath does sound appealing right about now. Even dwarves enjoy a bit of cleanliness from time to time."
They ascended the stairs, emerging into the brighter, open space of the village above. The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden hues across the wooden structures and illuminating the bustling activity of the Seraphs as they moved about their tasks with mechanical precision.
Gwenbelle turned to Kael, her expression turning more serious as the gravity of their situation settled back over them. "I'll go speak with Buinn now, bring him up to speed on all we've found. He'll likely have thoughts on how best to proceed."
Kael nodded, his gaze drifting toward the distant peaks of the mountains that framed the horizon. "Good. Meanwhile, I'll see to cleaning up and then check on the progress with the Scorpios. With the latest upgrades, they should be more than capable of handling any threats that come our way."
"Do you think the Boar King will return?" Gwenbelle asked, a note of concern threading through her voice.
"It's possible," Kael replied, his eyes hardening slightly at the mention of the beast. "But this time, we'll be ready. If it shows its tusked face again, we'll drive it back—or put it down for good."
Gwenbelle's jaw set with determination, and she gave a firm nod. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but if it does, we'll stand our ground together."
"Agreed," Kael said, offering a brief, sincere smile before turning toward his quarters. "I'll catch up with you later. Let me know what Buinn thinks."
"I will," Gwenbelle replied, watching as he walked away, the weight of leadership evident in his stride. She took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air and momentary peace before heading toward the infirmary where Buinn rested.
As she walked, thoughts swirled through her mind—of ancient runes and forgotten knowledge, of alliances forged and dangers yet to come.
Gwenbelle sat beside Buinn, her expression thoughtful as she prepared to voice her concerns. The afternoon light filtered through the small window of the village hall, casting soft shadows across the room. Buinn, though still weak from his injuries, had regained enough strength to sit up and listen, his eyes sharp with curiosity and a touch of wariness.
"Buinn," Gwenbelle began, her voice measured, "I've been thinking about our situation, about the Stonehearth outpost." She paused, searching for the right words. "The core of it… it's already been integrated with this floating village. The spring, the runes, the very essence of what we were searching for—it's all here."
Buinn's brow furrowed as he absorbed her words. "What are you suggesting, Gwenbelle?"
She sighed, her gaze drifting toward the window, where the floating village's horizon stretched endlessly. "I'm suggesting that we reconsider our path. The Alpha wolf territory is treacherous, and we've already seen how deadly the creatures here can be. Kael's route to the mountain… it might be our best option. It's closer to our dwarf cave hall, and from there, we could seek advice and perhaps even reinforcements from the clan leader."
Buinn nodded slowly, his mind turning over the implications. "You believe the risks of crossing the Alpha wolf territory outweigh the need to reach the outpost?"
"I do," Gwenbelle admitted. "We've already found what we were looking for, in a way. The core is here, and it's functioning within Kael's floating village. What remains at Stonehearth may no longer be of value, or worse, it could be a trap, or a ruin overrun by creatures more fearsome than we've encountered. The truth is, we don't know what we'll find, and we don't have the luxury of risking our lives for what might be nothing."
Buinn leaned back against his pillows, his expression thoughtful. "You make a fair point, Gwenbelle. The monsters we've faced… they're beyond anything I've ever seen, and I don't doubt there are worse down on the ground. Perhaps it's wiser to take the safer path, to follow Kael to the mountain. We can regroup there, seek counsel from the clan, and decide our next steps with clearer minds."
The chamber they had discovered below the floating village, the journal of Thoric Endweisser—it was all too much to keep to herself. She had to tell Buinn, had to share the weight of what she had found.
"Buinn," she continue, her voice soft but steady. "There's something you need to know. Down in the sewer, Kael and I found a hidden chamber. Inside, we discovered a journal… it belonged to someone named Thoric Endweisser, a master engineer."
Buinn's eyes, though still weak, widened at the name. "Endweisser? I've never heard of him. What was in the journal?"
Gwenbelle hesitated, searching for the right words. "It's… radical, Buinn. Thoric was exiled for his ideas, and I can see why. He believed that the power of Bezmadan—the forge, the fire, the volcano—could be enhanced by integrating it with nature. Specifically, he wanted to use water as a means of generating energy."
Buinn's brow furrowed, his hand clutching the blanket that covered him. "Water? Bezmadan is the god of the forge, of fire and molten rock. The idea of using water in that process… it could change everything. The very essence of our beliefs."
Gwenbelle nodded, understanding his concern. "I know. It's heresy to even consider it. But Thoric had a vision, Buinn. He believed that by merging the forge's power with the natural world, he could achieve something greater, something beyond what we've ever known."
Buinn sighed, leaning back against the pillow, his expression thoughtful. "I'm just a lore keeper, Gwenbelle. My duty is to preserve the knowledge passed down through the ages, to keep the old ways alive. New knowledge, new ideas… those are the domain of the smiths, of those who shape the metal and craft our future."
"But what do you think?" Gwenbelle pressed. "If Thoric was right… if this could work, would it be worth the risk?"
Buinn shook his head slowly. "I don't know, Gwenbelle. It's not my place to say. The forge is sacred, a gift from Bezmadan. To tamper with it, to introduce something so foreign… it could bring untold power, or it could lead to ruin. The choice isn't mine to make. But whatever happens, we must tread carefully. The past is full of warnings, of those who sought to change the world and paid the price."
Before Gwenbelle could respond, there was a knock at the door. Kael's voice came from the other side, breaking the tension in the room. "How's Buinn doing?"
Gwenbelle glanced at Buinn, who gave a faint nod. "He's recovering, Kael. Slowly, but he's getting there."
Kael pushed open the door and stepped inside, his presence commanding but not overbearing. He looked at Buinn with concern, then turned to Gwenbelle. "We've been burning days here. The village is growing stronger, but we can't stay put much longer. We'll need to move towards the mountain again tomorrow."
"Back to the mountain?" Buinn's voice was weak but curious.
Kael nodded, his expression grim. "The Boar King is still out there, and it's only a matter of time before it comes for us again. The Scorpios have been upgraded—they should be able to penetrate its hide now. We might not be able to kill it, but at the very least, we can drive it away. Or, if we're fortunate, capture it. Proper revenge for what it's done."
Gwenbelle felt a shiver run down her spine at the mention of the Boar King. The memory of its massive form, the destruction it had wrought, was still fresh in her mind. But Kael's determination was infectious, his plan sound. She glanced at Buinn, who seemed to be pondering Kael's words, his mind still distant, weighed down by the burden of the knowledge they had uncovered.
"Tomorrow, then," Gwenbelle said, her voice firmer than she felt. "We'll be ready."
Kael nodded, his gaze lingering on Buinn for a moment longer before he turned to leave. "Rest well, both of you. We'll need our strength for what's to come."
As the door closed behind him, Gwenbelle turned back to Buinn. "We'll have to keep vigilant, Buinn. Kael may not be our enemy, but this village, the things we've found… they're not like anything we've known. We have to be careful."
Buinn nodded, his expression resolute despite his weariness. "I trust your judgment, Gwenbelle. But we must never forget where we come from. The forge, the fire… they are our heritage. Whatever lies ahead, we must hold on to that."