Deep beneath the palace, the royal forge roared with life. The ringing of hammers, the hiss of molten metal, and the rhythmic bellow of the furnaces filled the vast underground chamber. The dwarves of Lothara, the best the kingdom had to offer, worked tirelessly, not for war—Lothara had none—but for progress, creation, and the expansion of their craft. They shaped weapons, armor, and intricate constructs of magic and steel, indulging in their own innovations whenever the King’s decree left them to their own devices.
Through the towering iron doors, a tiefling attendant descended the spiraling staircase, his red eyes scanning the forge. He moved with careful purpose, his tail flicking in irritation as he wove past rune-forged anvils and dwarves grumbling over half-finished projects. He wasn''t here for them. He sought one dwarf in particular.
At the far end of the forge, Eitri stood before an anvil, hammering into a half-finished shield. With every strike, golden light surged from his fingertips into the hammer’s head, branding the metal with runes that flared and settled into the surface like whispers of power. The shield trembled under the enchantment, absorbing it, reforging its very essence under the master blacksmith’s will.
The tiefling cleared his throat between hammer swings.
Eitri paused, tilting his head, the glare of his goggles catching the forge’s light. “You’ve got a hell of a way of interrupting a craftsman at work.” His voice was a gruff rumble, still half-focused on the shield before him.
“The Dragon King summons you to the throne room,” the tiefling replied evenly. “I am to escort you.”
Eitri exhaled sharply, then lifted the hammer for one final strike. The shield flared with radiant energy, then dimmed, settling into its final form. “You’re lucky I was just finishing,” he muttered, pulling off his goggles and shoving them onto his belt. He didn''t need to ask why the King was calling him. He already knew. Without another word, he followed the tiefling through the iron doors.
The dragon king was seated in his throne when the door was opened by the tiefling allowing Eitri to enter the throne room before closing it behind the dwarf leaving the king and blacksmith alone. The room was filled with tense silence as the two old friends stared at each other until Eitri began to approach as he said, “So what was so important that I had to be torn from my work? You couldn’t come and visit me at my work, so I have to visit you in yours?” the king said nothing and just stared with those expressionless and golden eyes. “Oh what? The silent treatment? I thought you were too mature for that. What next? Gonna make faces? Be a man and speak up!” The dwarf was attempting to banter as they normally did when nobody was around but instead the king rose and pulled out a dagger that looked similar to the one that was given to joran except it was out of its sheath to reveal the perfect looking blade. Eitri stopped walking and raised an eyebrow. “Why would you pull that out of the relic room? I was led to believe it wasn’t to be touched unless needed.”
This seemed to earn a response out of the dragon king as he said, “as was i… which is why i was shocked to find out the last mercy-” he spun the named dagger, so he was now holding it by the blade itself then squeezed until the blade cracked then shattered beneath his fingers. “-Was a fake.” Eitri immediately lost all sign of camaraderie, and his gaze became serious. “Aye… it appears it is.” his gaze met the dragon king’s as they stared at each other in another moment of tense silence until the king said, “as i''m sure you are aware only a few have access to the relic room but there is only one who can make a duplicate so close in comparison that one could think it was the real thing. I can tell the difference because the magical aura is different… weaker…. Younger…” he dropped the shards on the ground as the room grew cold, but Eitri kept his gaze without a hint of fear. “Are you going to get to what you’re implying erun-” in a fit of sudden rage the dragon king ripped his throne out of the floor with one hand and tossed it aside. The force of his throw sent the throne through 2 walls before crashing out into the middle of one of the training yards within the castle walls. The guards gathered around the pile of rubble confused when they heard the king yell, “DO YOU THINK IT IS WISE TO REFER TO ME BY MY TRUE NAME RIGHT NOW??!!!” This gave the knights the right idea to go about their business and not to eavesdrop.
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Eitri looked at the hole in the wall with a raised eyebrow and with a tap of the hammer hanging from his belt, magic flowed from his hand and out to the outer wall then the inner wall slowly repairing both until they were good as new. “Real smooth your highness…” he turned his attention back to the king who was now looming over him. The king held a calm expression, but you could feel the anger rolling off of him while the dwarf seemed unphased. “You will tell me where my son went, or I will have no choice but to force it out of you.” Eitri finally showed a dark expression as he placed a hand on his hammer. “I have seen you fight during the dragon war just as you have seen that I am as good of a warrior as I am a blacksmith. if you intend to continue down this path then I will have no choice but to remind you of that fact.” they stared deep into each other’s eyes as they began radiating powerful magic with hostile intent. Their auras clashed with such intensity that the air shimmered and everyone in the palace felt the urge to run only for Eitri''s gaze to soften. He sighed and pulled his magical energy back in before taking a step back. “I''m sorry old friend. I know you are upset over the disappearance of your son so for once I shall be the cooler head.” he placed his hands behind his back as he said, “last night i caught your son trying to sneak out. He proclaimed he intended to do what he had hoped to do with your blessing. He had told me that even if I reported him or stopped him myself then he would just try again and again.” the king waved his hand as he replied, “then we would stop him again and again. He must remain in the castle not just so he can remain safe but also so all of Orano will be safe.”
“At what cost to your son, old friend? He already feels like a prisoner but the more you try to keep him locked up here while he obviously doesn’t wish to be then the more, he will resent you and feel alone. The darkness within him-” “would only be a burden until we rid him of it! You know we have the best mages in Lothara working hard to find some way to extract whatever is inside him! He would only need to stay here until we can finally cure him!” Eitri scowled and placed his hands on his hips. “And what if there is no cure in lothara? What if despite all our advancements in magic and mechanics and potions we just don’t have the means to deal with whatever is inside him? I was going to take him back to his room, but something compelled me to help him. Something told me that the key to whatever ails him would be out there. So, I gave him a few items then handed him the dagger to give to someone he trusted.” “You know orano! Who could he possibly end up trusting in a world like that?!” “I don''t know. He will have to figure that out for himself.”
The king stared down at the dwarf with his shadow looming over him before he turned and moved towards the thrones. “This is insane! Absurd!” He turned on his heel to look at Eitri. “You have put the entire realm at risk based on something compelling you to do so. You have given the prince the one thing that can stop him if the amulet is removed as well as given him a head start. Worse, you have sent my son into a world he knows nothing about.” he snapped his fingers and instantly an elven maid came rushing into the room. She stopped a couple feet in the room and bowed. “Rina. I want you to alert the captain of the royal guard. Have him gather up any volunteers and have them track the prince down then return him to the castle." She bowed again and left the room without a word. The king grumbled softly, “I''m going to have to keep this closed circle. I can''t put out a notice to the soldiers or police in Lothara because they will talk, and everybody will know Joran is out there somewhere. Not to mention nobody outside of the palace knows about the secret behind the prince’s amulet.”
“So, what’s the plan then? Drag him back and lock him up and pray to the gods we find a cure before you die, and he becomes king of a land he doesn’t know and hasn’t met?” Eitri crossed his arms and glared at the king. The king returned the glare as he said, “he is my son and the last family I have left. I will do what I must to protect him and this realm. In time I may forgive you for your transgressions… old friend… but for now, go back to your forge and don’t let me see you again.” Eitri stood there for a moment with a blank stare before turning and leaving the throne room without a word. The king sighed then looked at the intact throne of his wife and son. All he could do was picture his wife sitting in her throne while she cradled an infant joran in her arms. He slowly walked over and placed a hand on the back of the throne as tears swelled in his eyes. His eyes locked with infant joran’s. So innocent and full of love and hope and happiness. If only he could’ve stopped the death of jezereen. How he wishes he could’ve prevented that night from ever happening and maybe everything would be different. There was no time for what ifs though. Now was the time to hope he can bring joran home before he is found by enemies or before the amulet is removed from his neck.