Elara led them down a narrow stone staircase hidden behind her forge’s hearth, each step humming with a subtle warmth. The walls themselves seemed to glow with life, veins of feint golden leyline energy pulsing beneath translucent crystalline stone, illuminating their descent.
At the bottom, the air opened into a vast subterranean chamber. Water trickled in quiet streams along mossy rock ledges, pooling into a crystalline basin at the chamber’s center. Faint motes of golden light drifted lazily above the forge like fireflies caught in an unseen breeze. In the center of it all stood an ancient anvil, its surface etched with spiraling elven runes that flickered with the pulse of the leyline energies below.