It wasn't long before the noble left, carrying a pocketful of promises and a face full of doubt. He hadn't even bothered to ask how long it would take, but I knew he'd be back. They always came back when they realized they couldn't get what they wanted anywhere else. Not that it mattered. The more desperate they were, the more coin I'd get out of them, and I always had a few tricks up my sleeve.
With a sigh, I set down my mug and wiped my hands on my apron. It was time to get serious. No more distractions. I needed to forge something legendary, something that'd make even the gods take a second look at my work. But first things first—I had a couple of things to track down.
I left the shop, pushing open the heavy wooden door with a grunt. Outside, the town of Ironhold was as quiet as usual. A few farmers haggled over crops, a couple of traders were unloading wagons of supplies, and the smell of roasting meat wafted from the tavern across the street. The perfect place to find a little information—or a drink, depending on how you looked at it.
"Oi, Thorin!" I shouted to a burly man near the market stand, his beard as thick as the anvils in my shop. He was a hunter, one of the few folks in town who might know where to find what I was looking for. "Got a minute?"
Thorin looked up from his game of dice with the merchant, rolling his eyes. "Aye, Odin. What do you want now?"
I slapped a few coins on the counter. "I need a map of the Red Ridge Mountains. I'm going hunting."
His eyes flickered with surprise. "Hunting? You're not one for that kind of work, are ye?"
I grinned and took a swig from my flask. "Not usually. But I've got a commission—something special. Thought I'd start with the basics. A phoenix feather and a dragon scale."
Thorin blinked at me for a moment, then burst out laughing. "You're mad. A dragon's not something you just find. And the last phoenix I heard of was roasted by some mage last summer."
"I'll find one," I said, wiping my mouth. "I've got ways."
Thorin shook his head, still chuckling. "Well, if ye want a map, I've got one. But it'll cost ye more than just a few coins. I've been to Red Ridge once, and I don't plan on going back."
"Tell me what I need to know, and I'll pay whatever you want," I said, slapping the coins down again, this time with a little more force.
He eyed the coins, then sighed, clearly torn between greed and caution. "Alright. But ye're on yer own after that. The Red Ridge Mountains are dangerous, especially near the peak. There's a dragon's lair up there, or there was, last time I checked. A bit further out, beyond the ridge, ye might find the remnants of that phoenix. But the air around there is thick with curses, and no one who's gone hunting for it ever came back."
"That's fine," I said, already starting to unroll the map. "I'm used to danger. Just point me in the right direction."
Thorin glanced over his shoulder, lowering his voice. "Ye might want to bring a friend with ye. No one goes up there alone and comes back in one piece."
I grinned. "I've got my own friends. Thanks for the map."
With that, I grabbed the map and tucked it into my pack. It wasn't a long journey, but the dangers of Red Ridge were well-known. And I didn't care. I was a dwarf, after all. And if there was one thing we knew how to do, it was survive.
The next morning, I was packed and ready to go. My axe, a few spare weapons, and a couple of bottles of the finest dwarven ale in my bag. I wasn't the type to face danger sober. Not that I needed to be sober to handle a few beasts, anyway.
The journey out of Ironhold wasn't too bad, but the further I got from the town, the more the land started to change. The trees grew sparse, and the air got thinner. The path turned into a rocky slope, and before long, the Red Ridge Mountains loomed ahead of me. A massive range of jagged peaks that seemed to stretch on forever, the kind of place that could swallow a man whole and leave no trace.
But I wasn't afraid. Not yet, anyway. I had a purpose now. A goal. I had to get that phoenix feather, and I had to get it soon.
As I ventured deeper into the mountains, I felt the heat begin to rise. The temperature was sweltering, and sweat ran down my brow. The heat from the phoenix's lair had a way of suffocating you, like it was always just on the edge of your consciousness.
But I wasn't here to look around and get lost. I had a job to do.
I climbed higher, pushing through the rocks and boulders, until I reached a narrow path that wound up the side of a cliff. It was slow work, but I kept at it, focusing on the map and the little details Thorin had shared.
After what felt like hours, I reached a small clearing, the path narrowing even more. The air here was thick with smoke, and I could feel the presence of something… powerful. Something ancient. I stopped, holding my breath, and then I heard it.
A screech, high-pitched and echoing, like a bird's cry but twisted, distorted.
I gripped my axe tighter.
The phoenix.
It was close. So close.
And so was the dragon.