Ideas. Collaboration. Create. The words echo in the void long after Allianda finishes speaking.
A blast of the bellows, and the forge flares for a moment, its light catching in hundreds of glittering facets, casting dazzling reflections about the void.
As the light fades, a being of crystal stands behind Allianda. An inner radiance pulses to each word it speaks.
"Alone and forgotten," thought I in this place,
Yet here I find a Mother, fair of face.
And here is a Forgemaster, bearing bronze.
To what end gather these as the World dawns?