I walked along the cold stone corridor of the castle, my elven ears catching the distant ring of hammer on anvil. The torches flickered in their brackets, casting dancing shadows across the tapestries that lined the walls—depictions of ancient battles and elven victories. The air smelled of incense and iron, a familiar combination that reminded me of Celebrimbor's workshop. My boots made little sound on the marble floor as I approached a junction, uncertain which path would lead me to the ruler of Eriagon.