Goblin Village - Riverside, late afternoon
The windmill stood tall against the treeline, its wooden blades creaking softly as the wind picked up. Nearby, a crude yet functional waterwheel turned steadily with the flow of the river, powering a simple generator built from salvaged parts, stone reinforcements, and hand-forged copper coils.
Lumberling wiped the sweat from his brow, stepping back to admire the setup. It wasn't pretty, but it worked. A low hum pulsed through the riverbank as energy crackled faintly through the wires he'd run toward the village. Lights would follow. Tools, heating, maybe even communications one day. One brick at a time.
Behind him, Aurelya sat on a smooth boulder, arms crossed, chin resting in one hand, her golden eyes unreadable.
She'd been watching him for days.
"Impressed?" Lumberling asked, not turning.
"Still trying to decide," she replied, amused. "You built a windmill out of goblin rope and old armor parts."
