Creation system

The winding cobblestone road that led back to Lastwind City stretched before them like a serpent through the emerald countryside.

Mitch adjusted his pack, feeling the weight of their hard-earned loot pressing against his shoulders with each step. They had to keep the appearance that they had the loot in their backpacks.

The sun hung low in the afternoon sky, casting long shadows across the rolling hills dotted with wildflowers and trees.

Leya walked beside him in contemplative silence, her green eyes constantly scanning the treeline for any sign of movement.

The memory of the ambush was still fresh in their minds, the sudden appearance of hostile awakeners, the clash of steel, the desperate fight for survival.

Every rustle of leaves, every distant bird call made them tense, hands instinctively moving toward their weapons.

"At least the weather's holding," Mitch remarked, trying to break the tension that had settled between them.

Leya nodded absently, her fingers tracing the pommel of her sword. "We were lucky today. We didn't encounter on the road any bandits, no wild beasts, no more awakeners looking for easy prey." Her voice carried a weary relief that spoke of too many close calls in recent weeks.

The familiar sight of Lastwind City's towering walls finally came into view as they crested the final hill.

The massive stone fortifications rose like gray cliffs from the earth, their battlements crowned with fluttering banners that snapped in the evening breeze.

Torch flames danced along the ramparts, and Mitch could make out the silhouettes of guards making their rounds.

They passed through the outer gates without incident, nodding to the tier-one guards who recognized them as regular dungeon delvers.

The city bustled with evening activity, merchants closing their stalls, children playing in the narrow streets, the aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread wafting from taverns and bakeries.

Instead of heading toward the familiar stone facade of the Adventurer's Guild, Leya steered them toward the center of the city. Her jaw was set with determination, but Mitch could see the worry lines creasing her forehead.

"You really think someone from the guild leaked our information?" he asked quietly as they navigated through increasingly affluent neighborhoods.

"Think about it," Leya replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Those awakeners knew exactly where we'd be. They had our party composition figured out, knew our gear. That's not a coincidence, that's intelligence."

The lord's castle dominated the center of the inner circle like a crown jewel. Its soaring towers pierced the sky, their dark stone surfaces carved with intricate reliefs depicting ancient battles and legendary heroes.

Massive iron-bound gates stood between towering walls that could withstand a siege from an army of tier-three awakeners.

The very air around the structure seemed to hum with protective enchantments.

Two imposing figures flanked the main entrance, tier-two guards whose presence radiated dangerous competence.

Their polished plate armor gleamed in the torchlight, emblazoned with the city lord's emblem.

Both men appeared to be seasoned veterans in their forties, their eyes sharp and calculating as they assessed every approaching visitor.

"Halt!" The command cracked through the air like a whip.

The guard on the left stepped forward, his hand resting casually on the pommel of an enchanted blade that seemed to shimmer with barely contained power. "State your business at Lord Aldric's residence."

Leya straightened her shoulders and adopted the formal tone she'd learned from years of dealing with nobility. "Honored guards, we seek an audience with Lord Aldric regarding a matter of city security.

A group of hostile awakeners ambushed us in the forest after our dungeon expedition. We believe this attack may be part of a larger threat to trade routes and citizen safety."

The second guard, a grizzled man with a scar running from his left temple to his jaw, studied them with practiced eyes.

He took in their battle-worn gear, the way they carried themselves, the subtle signs that marked them as experienced fighters rather than desperate petitioners.

"His Lordship maintains a busy schedule," the scarred guard replied, his tone neither hostile nor welcoming.

"Present yourselves tomorrow morning!"

Leya inclined her head respectfully. "We understand, honored sir. We shall return at the appointed time."

As they turned away from the castle, Mitch could see the frustration in Leya's posture. "At least we have tonight to prepare our report," he offered.

"And we should probably convert our loot to coin."

"You're right," Leya agreed, her mood brightening slightly.

The guild-appointed vendor operated from a nondescript building wedged between a candlemaker's shop and a scribe's office.

From the outside, it looked like any other merchant establishment, but Mitch knew that appearances could be deceiving in a city full of awakeners and their exotic goods.

The interior was a stark contrast to the humble exterior. Thick tapestries muffled sound, and carefully placed enchantments ensured that conversations remained private.

Display cases lined the walls, filled with weapons, armor, and mystical artifacts that gleamed under the warm light of magical crystals.

The vendor was a middle-aged man whose unremarkable appearance masked sharp business instincts and an encyclopedic knowledge of magical items.

His practiced eye could assess the value of an enchanted blade or a rare essence with uncanny precision.

"Leya, Mitch," he greeted them with a professional smile. "I take it your dungeon expedition was profitable? Please, step into the private chamber. I believe you'll appreciate the additional discretion."

The private room was windowless and soundproof, with a single large table illuminated by hovering orbs of soft light. Mitch began unpacking their treasure with the careful reverence of someone who understood its true value.

First came the daggers he had crafted during their dungeon stay, weapons of exquisite workmanship, each one perfectly balanced and brimming with latent magical energy.

Master Thorne examined each blade with a jeweler's loupe, testing the sharpness, the weight distribution, and the quality of the enchantments.

"Exceptional work," the vendor murmured appreciatively.

"The mana channels are perfectly aligned, and the craftsmanship rivals guild-certified artisans. These will sell quickly to discerning buyers." He made notations in a leather-bound ledger. "I can offer 570 gold coins for the complete set."