The cool night air drifted down from the crimson sandstone gorge, carrying the clean scent of running river water.
Inside the high basalt walls of Red-River Courtyard, the flagstones stayed pleasantly warm beneath the soles of Kaelen Vance’s hemp sandals as he stepped back out onto the terrace. The minor Fire-Vein below the earth hummed with steady, rhythmic heat, venting through iron grates disguised as ornamental stone lotus blossoms.
In the center of the terrace, the new Tier 2–3 star-iron Earth-Fire cauldron rested upon three heavy basalt claws.
The dark metal of the pot had a deep, oily sheen, forged thick enough to withstand three thousand degrees of furnace heat without blistering its seams. Kaelen ran his fingers along the rim, satisfied with the dwarven craftsmanship. The days of melting household stew-pots were officially over.
He slung two coils of oiled hemp rope over his shoulder and strolled toward the garden corner.
Two ancient plum trees grew ten feet apart near the star-iron cauldron, their gnarled roots drinking from the warm subterranean soil. Their branches formed a natural canopy of broad leaves, thick enough to keep off the river drizzle.
Kaelen tied the first rope around the eastern trunk with a triple hitch.
