After being teleported back to the entrance of the ancient dwarven ruins, Kieth, Oastlo, Clutch, and Gozmo stood among the overgrown landscape, their bags heavy with treasures from the trials they had just faced. The ruins' stone carvings and the eerie silence of the surrounding forest reminded them of how far they had come. Their muscles still ached from the exertion of the final trial, but they were finally free from the weight of constant battle.
"Well," Kieth said, adjusting the strap of his storage sling bag, "now that we're out here, I think it's time for a bit of an upgrade." He turned to Oastlo, who had been eyeing the ancient cores in his possession ever since they left the dwarven halls. "Oastlo, we've gathered enough materials. Can you enhance this bag for me?"
Oastlo, the Goblin Mage, grinned, his sharp teeth peeking through. "Finally! I've been waiting for this. These ancient cores hold incredible power. You'll be amazed at what I can do."
With that, Oastlo gestured for Kieth to hand him the sling bag. He placed it on a smooth stone nearby and pulled out the glowing ancient cores from his pouch. The cores shimmered in his hand, crackling with latent energy as if they were alive. Oastlo closed his eyes and began muttering incantations in the Goblin tongue. His hands moved in precise motions, manipulating the cores with delicate control.
The sling bag started to glow faintly, and the air around them thickened with magical energy. Kieth watched as Oastlo worked, a sense of anticipation building within him. The glow intensified, and the ancient cores disintegrated, their energy pouring into the bag like liquid light.
After a few more moments, the glow subsided, and Oastlo handed the sling bag back to Kieth with a proud smile. "It's done. The bag can now hold the equivalent of a large chest and can carry up to 75 kilograms without burdening you."
Kieth tested the bag, lifting it and feeling the weight—or rather, the lack of it. "This is perfect," he said, genuinely impressed. "We'll need this for what's to come."
Clutch gave a nod of approval, while Gozmo's eyes sparkled with fascination at Oastlo's magical work. With their enhanced storage ready, they moved to their next task.
As they gathered their belongings and prepared to move on, Kieth turned to Gozmo, who had been tinkering with some scraps of metal he had collected during their trials.
"Gozmo," Kieth said, drawing the gnome's attention. "Now that we're out of the ruins, can you make those gloves for me? The ones we discussed?"
Gozmo's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes! The Silkfang Gloves, right? I've been thinking about how to put them together." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck nervously before continuing, "But, before I start, I was wondering… Could I formally join your group?"
Kieth blinked in surprise, then chuckled. "Gozmo, aren't you already part of the group? I thought that was obvious. You've been with us for a while now."
The gnome's face brightened, clearly relieved. "Oh! I wasn't sure. I'm not exactly a fighter like the rest of you, but I've learned a lot during our time together. I want to keep learning, keep building. It means a lot to me."
Kieth clapped him on the shoulder. "You're one of us, Gozmo. Consider it official."
With that settled, Gozmo got to work on the gloves. He found a smooth patch of ground to set up his tools, carefully arranging the materials he'd gathered. He pulled out the silk thread Kieth had obtained earlier, which would serve as the foundation for the gloves' special feature: the ability to deploy strings from the fingertips.
Gozmo worked with a speed and precision that could only come from years of experience. His hands moved like a blur as he assembled the gloves, weaving the silk into the fabric and reinforcing the joints with small, sturdy pieces of metal. It wasn't long before the gloves began to take shape.
As he worked, Gozmo explained, "These gloves are just a start. The materials we have right now aren't the strongest, but they'll do for now. If we find better materials later, I'll upgrade them for you. The strings will extend from the fingertips and can be used for all sorts of things—grappling, tripping enemies, tying up loose ends. You name it."
When the gloves were finished, Gozmo presented them to Kieth. The Silkfang Gloves were sleek and flexible, with small hidden mechanisms that would allow Kieth to deploy and retract the silk thread with ease. Kieth slid them on, flexing his fingers and testing the string deployment. They worked perfectly.
"These will come in handy," Kieth said, admiring the craftsmanship. "Thanks, Gozmo."
The gnome beamed. "Just doing my part. But remember, we'll make them even better when we find stronger materials."
Just as Kieth was about to test the gloves further, Spinner, Oastlo's pet spider, skittered to his master's side, its many eyes darting toward the bushes nearby. Oastlo narrowed his eyes, sensing something was off.
"What is it, Spinner?" Oastlo asked quietly. The spider clicked its mandibles and pointed its legs toward the source of the disturbance—a series of bushes swaying unnaturally in the distance.
Kieth's instincts kicked in immediately. "Everyone, stay sharp," he whispered, motioning for the group to follow him as they approached the bushes cautiously.
As they neared the source of the noise, they heard a faint voice calling out in desperation. "Help! Somebody, please!"
They parted the thick foliage to reveal a stunning sight: a high elf with flowing golden hair was tangled in a hanging trap. Her long, elegant limbs were bound by ropes, and her flawless, pale skin was marked with scrapes and bruises. Her sapphire eyes were wide with fear as she struggled against the bindings.
Kieth couldn't help but pause for a moment, taken aback by her ethereal beauty. The elf was striking, an almost otherworldly presence among the rough wilderness. But his awe quickly shifted into something more mischievous.
A slow, sinister smile crept across Kieth's face as a playful idea began to form. He stepped back, gesturing for Oastlo, Clutch, and Gozmo to gather around.
Kieth leaned in close to his companions and whispered, "I think we should have a little fun with this."
Oastlo grinned, catching on to the idea almost immediately. "You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you?"
Kieth nodded. "Let's pretend we're less than friendly. Maybe make her think we're going to… eat her."
Clutch chuckled darkly, his large orcish frame adding to the intimidation factor. "Sounds like fun."
Gozmo, always eager to play along with Kieth's plans, gave an enthusiastic nod. "I'll follow your lead."
With their plan set, Kieth stepped forward, putting on his most sinister expression. He spoke loud enough for the elf to hear, his voice dripping with mock menace.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Kieth said, pacing around the trapped elf as if she were prey. "A helpless little elf, caught in a trap. What a fine meal you'd make, wouldn't you agree, guys?"
Oastlo joined in, rubbing his hands together as he looked the elf up and down. "She does look quite tasty, doesn't she? I wonder how elves are best served—roasted or boiled?"
Clutch crossed his arms, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "Either way, she'd make a fine dinner."
Gozmo added, "Maybe we can use her for a stew. I bet elf meat is tender."
The high elf's face drained of color, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled even harder against the ropes, her voice trembling as she screamed, "No! Please! I got separated from my companions! You can't—!"
Kieth crouched down, leaning closer to her. "Oh, we can. It's just a matter of whether or not we're feeling… generous."
The elf's breathing grew ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought back tears. She screamed again, calling out, "Help! Somebody, help me!"
Kieth raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider her plea. "It seems like your companions have abandoned you. Or maybe you're the one who got lost. Either way, you're in a lot of trouble."
He let the tension hang in the air for a moment longer before he finally stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest. The others followed suit, keeping their expressions serious as they loomed over her.
Kieth watched as the elf trembled in fear, but as much as he enjoyed the act, he wasn't cruel. After all, it was only a joke—albeit a rather dark one.
Kieth sighed, raising a hand to stop the act. "Alright, alright," he said, his voice softening. "We're not really going to eat you."
The high elf stopped struggling for a moment, her tear-filled eyes darting between the group. "W-what?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kieth chuckled and waved for Clutch to cut the ropes. The orc pulled a knife from his belt and swiftly sliced through the bindings, freeing the elf from the trap. She collapsed to the ground, panting, her hands shaking as she rubbed her sore wrists.
"We were just messing with you," Kieth explained, offering a hand to help her up. "You're safe. We're not some random group of savages."
The elf hesitated, eyeing Kieth's hand with suspicion before slowly reaching out and accepting the help. Kieth pulled her to her feet, and once she was standing, she quickly backed away from the group, her guard still up.
"You-" she started, her voice shaking with anger. "You scared me half to death!"
Oastlo smirked, crossing his arms. "That was the point."
The elf shot him a glare, still visibly shaken. "Who does that? What kind of people joke about eating someone?!"
Kieth gave a half-hearted shrug. "To be fair, we've had a rough couple of days. A little dark humor never hurt anyone. Well, most of the time, anyway."
The elf, still catching her breath, stood a little straighter, trying to regain her composure. Her golden hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and despite her anger, she had an air of grace about her. "I'm Illyana," she said, finally introducing herself. "I was traveling with my companions when we were attacked by bandits. I ran and got separated from them. I don't know where they are now."
Kieth nodded, understanding her predicament. "Well, you're lucky you ran into us instead of those bandits. This area can be dangerous, especially for someone traveling alone."
Illyana narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not defenseless, you know."
"I don't doubt that," Kieth replied. "But those bandits wouldn't have stopped at just scaring you."
Illyana didn't respond, clearly still wary of Kieth and his group. Her gaze drifted toward Clutch and Oastlo, her suspicion still present, but her tension gradually eased as she realized they weren't going to harm her.
After a few moments of silence, Gozmo, ever the peacekeeper, spoke up. "Look, we're not bad people, really. We just like to have a bit of fun. But if you're in trouble, we can help you."
Illyana hesitated, looking uncertain. "Why would you help me?"
Kieth stepped forward, crossing his arms. "Because that's what we do. We've all been in rough situations before, and we know how it feels to need help." He glanced at his companions, who gave subtle nods of agreement. "Besides, it wouldn't sit right with us to just leave you out here alone."