The Quake
The Weight of Iron and Stone
A Day in the Life of an Earth Nation Blacksmith
The scent of burning coals, damp earth, and sea salt filled the morning air as Torim Kaelstone stepped out of his forge. He stretched his arms, muscles aching from the previous day’s work, and exhaled a slow breath, watching it mist in the cool mountain air. The city of Dun-Khazir, his home, sat at the base of the Karvann Peaks, where towering cliffs divided the Empire of the Earth from the rolling hills of the Fire Nation.
To the west, the Aeskar Sea glittered under the morning sun, ships already docked at the port, offloading goods from distant lands. The rhythmic clang of metal echoed through the streets as fellow smiths and artisans began their work. Dun-Khazir was a city of stone and iron, built to last, its foundations as deep as its people’s traditions.
But today, Torim had work to do beyond his forge.
A Smith’s Burden
Torim adjusted the straps of his leather apron and whistled sharply. From behind his workshop, Grimjaw, his drak-hound, lumbered into view. The creature, a mix between a scaled ox and a reptilian hunting beast, was the size of a warhorse, covered in thick, dull grey scales with a pair of curling horns. Its powerful legs and broad back made it an ideal beast of burden, perfect for hauling raw materials up the mountain paths.
Grimjaw huffed, blinking lazily before nudging Torim’s shoulder with his snout.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Torim muttered, rubbing the beast’s jaw. “It’s a long trip, but we’ll eat well after. I promise.”
With a heavy oak cart hitched to Grimjaw, Torim set out toward the market district near the port, where he’d pick up his supplies—coal, raw ore, and a new hammer to replace the one that had shattered days ago.
The streets of Dun-Khazir bustled with traders, laborers, and craftsmen, most of them dwarves and humans, though the occasional giant merchant or gnome tinker passed through. The city’s stone architecture blended naturally into the mountainside, with homes and shops carved into the rock. Thick pillars supported archways leading into underground marketplaces, where merchants displayed their goods under the glow of enchanted gemstones.
Torim passed familiar faces—Merrin, the leatherworker, haggling over a shipment of cured hides; Old Lurik, the local baker, pulling fresh bread from a stone oven. Life was steady here, and Torim liked it that way.
Until he heard a familiar voice call his name.
A Friend from Afar
“Torim Kaelstone! You still alive under all that soot?”
Torim turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered man with sun-kissed skin and sharp green eyes striding toward him. His travel-worn cloak bore the sigil of the Lightning Nation, and the faint crackle of residual static clung to his clothes.
Varian Tressk. An old friend.
Torim grinned. “Barely. You look like you just walked through a thunderstorm.”
“Not far from the truth,” Varian laughed, slapping Torim’s shoulder. “Three weeks in Volzareth and I swear the air still stings.”
Torim had always envied Varian’s wanderlust. While he toiled away in Dun-Khazir, Varian had spent years studying in the Great Library of the Lightning Nation, searching for lost knowledge and forbidden texts.
“What brings you back?” Torim asked as they continued walking.
Varian smirked. “I got something I think you’ll want to hear. But first, let’s get you your damn hammer.”
The Merchant’s Exchange
The hammer had arrived at Orvik’s Ironworks, a shop nestled in the heart of the market. Orvik, a burly dwarf with a braided beard and a perpetual scowl, handed Torim a beautifully crafted forge hammer, its handle reinforced with woven steel bands.
“She’ll last you a good ten years, if you don’t go smashing boulders with it,” Orvik grunted.
Torim inspected the balance and weight, nodding in satisfaction. “Perfect as always.”
Next, they moved through the market toward the coal and ore merchants, where Torim selected black iron chunks, rich copper veins, and refined silver ore for crafting. The earth crystals embedded in the stone gave them a natural resistance to wear and corrosion, making them highly sought after.
As Grimjaw’s cart grew heavier with supplies, Varian leaned against a stone pillar, arms crossed. “So, you gonna ask me what I found, or should I just tell you?”
Torim smirked. “You’re gonna tell me either way.”
Varian grinned. “You’re damn right.”
Secrets from the Great Library
Varian lowered his voice. “I found a manuscript in the deep vaults of Volzareth. It was locked away, hidden beneath layers of restricted access.” He paused. “It mentioned the missing primordial shards.”
Torim’s stomach tightened. “The shards? You mean… the original ones?”
Varian nodded. “Two are confirmed to be in unknown hands. One is still in the Land of the Gods. And the last…” He hesitated. “There are rumors it’s resurfacing soon.”
Torim frowned. “Why would the guilds care about a myth?”
“Because,” Varian said, “if someone finds it, they might be able to reignite the power of the original crystal. And whoever controls that… controls everything.”
The weight of those words settled over them.
Before Torim could respond, the ground beneath them shuddered. A deep, distant rumble echoed from the mountains.
People paused, looking toward the Karvann Peaks.
Then, just as quickly, the tremor stopped.
The city held its breath.
“Quake?” Torim asked.
Varian’s expression darkened. “Maybe. Or something waking up.”
The Road Back
Torim exhaled and shook his head. “If something’s stirring, the guilds will send people to investigate. Right now, I have a forge to run.”
Varian chuckled. “Same old Torim. Always focused.”
Torim loaded the last of his supplies into Grimjaw’s cart and climbed onto the driver’s bench. “You staying in town?”
“For a while,” Varian said. “I have more to tell you, but you’ll need a drink first.”
Torim smirked. “You’re buying.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As the sun began to set, Torim steered Grimjaw through the streets of Dun-Khazir, his forge waiting for him. Yet, a weight settled in his chest. If the missing shards were returning, the world was about to change.
And he wasn’t sure he was ready for it.