Point of View: Blacksmith
I stood in front of a forge in Dalaran.
It still felt ironic how excited I was.
At first, I hated my profession. I wanted to fight. I wanted to stand on the front lines, protecting my fellow primordials with my own hands.
That had been my dream.
But instead… I became a blacksmith.
In the beginning, every strike of the hammer against the anvil reminded me of what I wasn't. Every time I saw the soldiers patrolling Arcadia, I felt a stab of envy.
They fought.
They were heroes.
I only forged.
Until that day.
I was working when one of the soldiers entered my workshop with a woman. I recognized him immediately. He was a regular customer.
But that day he was wearing civilian clothes.
"Not working today, friend?" I asked casually.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled his armor and shield out of a backpack and placed them on the table.
They were almost destroyed.
Bent plates. Deep cracks. Claw marks.
Then he spoke.
"Thank you…"
I blinked in confusion.
"Why are you thanking me?"
The woman began to cry quietly. He wrapped an arm around her, trying to keep his composure.
"Thanks to you," she said in a trembling voice, "my husband survived an abomination yesterday."
The soldier looked me straight in the eyes.
"The armor you sold me saved my life."
Something inside me froze.
"Thank you for letting me come back home… with her."
They embraced right in front of me.
And I…
I just stood there, motionless.
That day, I understood something.
I didn't need to stand on the front lines to protect my people.
I didn't need to wield a sword.
If I created the strongest armor…
If I forged the deadliest weapons…
They would come back alive.
I could still fulfill my dream.
Just from a different place.
I sighed, returning to the present.
"It's been two years since then…"
I stepped into the forge in Dalaran.
And I was left speechless.
It was far larger inside than it looked from the outside. The anvil was made of a dark crystal that seemed to absorb light. Tools floated neatly along the wall, perfectly aligned.
I extended my hand.
I thought of a specific hammer.
Instantly, it shot toward me.
I caught it with a smile.
"Incredible…"
The materials were already refined, perfectly smelted, ready to work with. Their quality was obvious. As a blacksmith, I could feel it the moment I touched them.
I approached the furnace.
It was enormous.
According to the system, it was first-rate for its level.
I extended my hand toward the interior and felt the heat.
Stable. Even.
"It doesn't fluctuate…"
Perfect.
The place was fully equipped. Chests with expanded interior space, ideal for storing creations and materials. Organized work areas. Perfect lighting.
It was far superior to my forge in Arcadia.
I didn't need to think about it for long.
The system had already shown me the contract conditions.
I could fulfill them.
"System… I accept the contract."
A quiet determination settled in my chest.
Here…
I wouldn't just forge weapons.
I would forge a future for our people.
Point of View: Merchant
I stood in front of a shop, reading the system contract.
It was long, but clear.
Dalaran is a neutral city. I must sell to everyone without discrimination. The quality must meet the established standards. Both parties are protected by contract.
Fair.
Very fair.
Too fair.
If I didn't have enough FD points to meet the initial requirements, I could request a loan.
One year to repay it.
A quiet laugh escaped me.
"One year?"
I could repay it in less than a month.
I am a merchant.
I can evaluate the value of an object with a single glance. I can sense an opportunity before it even takes shape.
And right now…
My instincts weren't whispering.
They were screaming.
Opportunity.
Wealth.
Expansion.
This place didn't have an established market.
But it had buyers everywhere.
Growing demand.
Nonexistent supply.
A few meters away, another primordial observed a shop with apparent calm.
Another merchant.
Our eyes met.
A faint smile.
Polite.
Controlled.
But we both knew the truth.
On the outside, we walked around. Observing. Commenting on trivial details.
On the inside…
We were calculating.
Strategic locations. Initial costs. Profit margins. Recovery time.
We couldn't show our greed.
If others understood the true value of this place, the competition would multiply.
This treasure had to be secured first.
And when the others finally understood what Dalaran truly offered…
It would already be too late.
In business, the fastest don't just win.
They dominate the market.
I smiled as I closed the contract.
"I accept."
The real battlefield is not always covered in blood.
Sometimes…
It's covered in gold.