Word spread faster than fire through dry straw. Within days, the whole of Keldoria was buzzing with the news—blacksmiths' hammers clanged with sharper rhythm, taverns roared with speculation, and even the quietest hamlets echoed with talk of the king's grand decree.
The reward was so staggering that no one could stay silent. Forty gold coins. To the common man, it was a fortune. To a craftsman, it was a dream strong enough to drag them across mountains and rivers just for the chance to claim it.
In the capital, palace scribes worked day and night, their quills scratching endlessly. Fresh proclamations were carried into the streets, nailed to notice boards in crowded marketplaces, guildhalls thick with smoke, and taverns where ale ran as freely as gossip.
The bold letters drew eyes like moths to flame:
The Grand Blacksmithing Competition of Keldoria
Prizes totaling forty gold coins.
All smiths, apprentices, and masters are welcome.
