Tave knocked on the smithy's door, and a voice from within invited him to enter. He glanced over his shoulder and asked Lily to wait outside.
Stepping inside, he was immediately greeted—like always—by the suffocating heat that rolled off the forge and slapped his face. The dwarf was still hard at work at his station, hammering steadily on an anvil.
Tave approached and stood quietly for a moment, giving the blacksmith time to finish what he was doing.
He waited. And waited. No words came at first. Then, at last, Fokil stopped his work and turned toward him.
"So, you're the one behind all that chaos out there?" Those were the dwarf's first words.
Tave gave an awkward half-smile, caught off guard by the question. "Well… yes, sir. It was me and my rift team. We got caught inside the emergency rift."
Fokil didn't reply, just gave a look, as if to say: what do you need?
