The shrill winds of the highlands whistle through narrow crags and ridges, carrying with them whispers of ancient craft and more recent horrors. Here lies the Green-Quartz Mine, a once-thriving source of prospecting wealth. Alas, it is now silent beneath layers of dust and fear. Normally a marvel of bustling commerce of precious stones and coal, the mine also serves as the only known entrance to a greater complex known as the Hall of the Wyrmbone Anvil. Within those buried halls, it is noted, lies a magical, dwarvish anvil carved from the bones of the last ember-drake. It is said that smiths’ hammers can be blessed upon its surface to become magical.
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