After that incident, which nobody except the king, the soldiers, and Erend' group knew about, the forging process continued unabated.
The production of Starsteel weapons resumed with renewed vigor, each weapon forged to perfection, gleaming with an ethereal light. The dwarven blacksmiths, fueled by their unbroken resolve, hammered away, creating swords, axes, and shields that possessed unmatched sharpness and durability.
The blacksmiths had faces beaming with happiness as they hammered the metal, watching every spark come out and shine on their faces.
Then, when the weapons were finally finished, a happy laugh came out of them, showing how enjoyable the work was because they were able to work on forging the Starsteel.
Erend and his friends remained in the kingdom, lending their skills and strength to assist the dwarves. They worked tirelessly, safeguarding the forge and ensuring the smooth progress of the weapon-making process. Their presence provided an additional layer of security and bolstered the morale of the blacksmiths and soldiers alike.
The weapons produced were nothing short of extraordinary. Each piece seemed to hum with latent power, the result of the combined expertise of the dwarves and the magical properties of Starsteel.
Swords that could cut through the toughest of armor, shields that could withstand the mightiest of blows, and axes that could cleave through stone—all were crafted with meticulous care and precision.
As days turned into weeks, the kingdom's armory swelled with these magnificent weapons, ready to defend against any threat. Erend, Adrius, Adrien, Billy, and Saeldir continued to work closely with the dwarves, their camaraderie growing stronger with each passing day.
They shared meals, stories, and strategies, forging bonds that would endure beyond the immediate crisis.
The Elf woman remained securely contained within the magical tube, her presence a constant reminder of the lurking danger. Plans were made for her eventual interrogation, with Adrius taking every precaution to ensure that when the time came, she would have no means of escape.
---
Few days after that incident...
The others followed suit, their mugs clinking together in a resolute toast. "To standing strong."
As they continued their meal, they shared plans, their spirits lifted by the bond they shared and the knowledge that they would face the coming challenges together.
The dwarves' laughter and song filled the hall, a reminder of what they were fighting to protect.
As the night wore on and the festive atmosphere in the great hall of Khazadrim continued, Erend found himself slipping into a quieter corner of the room. He watched his friends and the dwarves reveling in their hard-earned success, but his mind was elsewhere.
Being the Dragonborn had always been a heavy mantle to bear, but lately, the weight of it seemed to press down on him even more. He leaned against a stone pillar, his reptilian eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight, lost in thought.
The power he wielded was immense, unparalleled. With it came a responsibility he couldn't share with anyone else, no matter how much he trusted his friends. They could fight alongside him, strategize, and offer their unwavering support, but ultimately, the burden of his power and its consequences rested solely on his shoulders.
Erend's thoughts drifted back to the Great Calamity. He had always known that his role would be pivotal when the time came, but now, with the threat looming closer, the reality of it was stark and unforgiving.
He was the shield, the sword, and the beacon of hope all in one. It was his duty to protect those who couldn't protect themselves, to stand firm against the darkness when it came.
Erend sighed deeply, the sound barely audible above the din of the hall. He knew he couldn't let his friends see the depths of his worry; they needed to believe in him, in the Dragonborn. His strength was their anchor.
Adrius, Adrien, Billy, and Saeldir could share the fight, but they couldn't share the weight of his destiny. It was a solitary burden, one he had to carry alone.
"Well, maybe I could use some booze."
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