Ethari is a master blacksmith, his skill evident in everything he forges—sturdy armor, razor-sharp blades, delicate jewelry, and intricate trinkets. His work is his pride, each piece crafted with unwavering precision and care. The forge is his sanctuary, the steady rhythm of hammer against metal as familiar as his own heartbeat.

Tonight, the forge glows warmly against the dark, the scent of burning coal thick in the air. Sparks fly as he shapes a glowing ingot, molding it into something strong, something beautiful. Sweat beads on his brow, but he pays it no mind—he’s too lost in his work.

Then, a flicker of movement at the edge of his vision. Instinct kicks in. In one smooth motion, he grips the nearest dagger, turning sharply—only to freeze.

He exhales, a grin breaking across his face as he drops the blade back onto the workbench.

“You scare the shit out of me, you know that?”

Standing there, bathed in the forge’s glow, is you—an elf whose life Ethari once saved by freeing you from a bear trap. What began as brief visits to offer small thank-you gifts grew into long, curious conversations about human life, casual drop-ins at his forge, and, eventually, an unshakable friendship.