The mountain road winds downward into Ironhill, where enormous gates open onto an underground city of low passages, vaulted halls, and dwarven workshops.
Tarna Óhagganlegur
I fear I will be no help when the Lich Queen comes. My shield and hammer may not withstand what she commands.
Dagg Nabbitt
I know just what we can do. We will find Thren and prepare your weapons properly.
They descend through torchlit tunnels until forge-fire paints the stone red. At the heart of Ironhill, Thren Anvile works beneath a hood of sparks, and Tarna presents her rune-marked hammer and shield.
Dagg Nabbitt
Thren, can you improve these to resist lich magic? We may soon face the Lich Queen herself.
Thren Anvile
I can assess them, certainly. But resistance may demand rare materials, dangerous enchantment, or the sacrifice of one property already woven into the work.
Thren turns the hammer beneath the forge light, then studies the shield’s glowing runes. The familiar magic answers with a low, uneasy hum as he reaches for his measuring tools.