The weather had been gloomy all day. Clouds hid the sun deep within their folds, and the sky had lost its usual azure hue, turning the color of water soaked with a dirty rag. Overcast days had a lingering charm that invited endless flights of fancy, yet walking down snow-white streets beneath that dark sky, with the wind sighing around you, or sitting indoors watching snowflakes drift like silk through the wind outside, often filled the heart with an unbidden sadness. Alongside that lingering charm came a touch of melancholy.
Rex and Kael'thas left the Mansion and walked side by side. Fireballs appeared one after another with a sizzling sound and began revolving around Kael'thas.
High Elf guards and human guards formed two lines behind them, following closely to protect the pair from any danger.
Rex had thought persuading Kael'thas would be somewhat difficult, that he would have to spend quite some time talking him into going to the Blacksmith and working with Aoth to forge the armor.
In the end, however, Rex had clearly overthought it. Kael'thas was obviously very interested in forging armor that allowed its wearer to fight underwater. Rex had underestimated his love of forging.
As expected of the High Elves, whose name was synonymous with longevity, much like tortoises.
Biting off more than one could chew was a warning suited to humans. Their lifespans were limited, so taking on too much was something they had to avoid above all else. Powerful individuals generally focused on one field rather than pursuing two in tandem. Those who enjoyed forging were therefore usually not very strong, while the strong had only a rudimentary understanding of secondary professions. But that did not apply to the High Elves. Humans had a mere hundred years, whereas the High Elves' long lives