Ch 111: The Wanderers Arrive

The Ironworks awoke one crisp morning to the sound of wagons creaking and horses trotting. A caravan of new arrivals, their banners bearing unfamiliar crests, entered the valley, their silhouettes breaking through the low-hanging mist. The caravan bustled with energy, a mixture of scholars in flowing robes, merchants hawking goods from distant lands, and adventurers whose armor bore the marks of hard-fought battles. Their voices, a blend of excitement and curiosity, carried across the early morning air as they exchanged theories about the valley's mysteries.

Kalem stood on a ridge overlooking the scene, his arms crossed as he surveyed the newcomers. Behind him, the Ironworks' forge sent up faint plumes of smoke, the scent of hot metal mingling with the crisp morning air. These were not ordinary travelers or opportunists—Kalem could feel it. The way they moved, the hushed but deliberate tone of their conversations, the equipment they carried—it all spoke of people with purpose and determination.

Down below, Vornar and Tharic stood near the gates of the Ironworks, quietly observing the caravan's arrival. As Kalem descended the ridge to join them, Tharic glanced over his shoulder. "You seeing this, boy?" he asked, gesturing toward the activity below.

"I see it," Kalem replied.

Tharic scratched his beard, his expression a mixture of annoyance and unease. "We've always had visitors passing through. Peddlers, wanderers, the occasional fool looking for riches. But this lot's different. They're not just here to poke around—they've got plans."

Kalem frowned. "I didn't ask for this."

"No," Tharic said with a chuckle, "but you lit the beacon, whether you meant to or not. Playing with those runes, fixing things, making noise—it got people talking. Congratulations, boy. You've made the valley famous."

Vornar, who had remained silent until now, let out a low grunt. "It's not just noise, Tharic. Those ruins hold real power, and power attracts all kinds. Keep your wits about you, Kalem. Not everyone who comes here will be friendly."

Kalem nodded, though the weight of their words settled heavily on his shoulders.

As the caravan set up camp near the valley's entrance, one figure emerged from the crowd. A wiry scholar, her frame adorned with layers of weathered robes and a satchel bursting with scrolls and instruments, broke away from the group. She moved with a brisk, confident stride, her eyes darting between the forge, the surrounding cliffs, and finally, the small group at the gates.

"Here we go," Tharic muttered under his breath, straightening up as the scholar approached.

The woman stopped a few paces away and offered a polite smile. "Greetings," she said, her voice warm but measured. "I'm Elira, a researcher from the Northern Consortium. Word of the valley's unique properties has reached far and wide, and I couldn't resist the opportunity to see it for myself."

Kalem crossed his arms, his expression guarded. "What do you want?"

Elira's smile didn't waver, though her sharp gaze flicked briefly to Tharic and Vornar before returning to Kalem. "Collaboration," she said simply. "I've spent years studying ancient runic systems, but seeing them in action—especially with your apparent expertise—is a rare opportunity. Perhaps we could share knowledge. I believe we have much to learn from each other."

Before Kalem could respond, Tharic let out a low chuckle. "Collaboration, huh? That's a fancy way of saying you want to pick his brain, isn't it?"

Elira turned to Tharic, her expression calm but firm. "I won't deny my curiosity. But I assure you, my interest is genuine. I've no intention of taking without giving. If anything, I suspect I may have insights that could help stabilize the region more effectively."

Kalem hesitated, his mind racing. He had no reason to trust this stranger, but the prospect of learning from someone with a deeper understanding of runes was tempting. Still, he wasn't about to commit without caution.

"I'm not looking to satisfy curiosity," he said finally. "My focus is on fixing the valley. If your work helps with that, fine. But if it doesn't—"

"It will," Elira interrupted, her voice steady. "I'll make sure of it."

Before Kalem could question her further, Vornar stepped forward, his towering frame casting a long shadow. "We'll be watching you," he said flatly, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Elira inclined her head, her smile softening. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Thank you, Kalem. I look forward to working with you."

As she turned and rejoined the camp, Kalem felt a weight settle over him. This wasn't just another visitor; this was someone who could potentially change the course of his work—and the valley itself.

Tharic clapped him on the shoulder, breaking his thoughts. "Looks like you've got yourself a new fan, boy. Better make sure she doesn't turn into trouble."

Kalem said nothing, his eyes fixed on the growing encampment below. If Elira was the first of many, he needed to be ready for what came next.