Half-elf Ranger

"Damn it! You are actually alive!" A rude-looking dwarf exclaimed when he saw the shadow appearing at the door, staring at two big silver-blue eyes.

Then he put down the hammer in his hand, wiped the sweat on his forehead, picked up the pipe on the side, took a deep breath, opened his mouth and exhaled a string of fist-shaped smoke rings, finally calming down his excited heart.

"Broto has been gone for a long time, have I finished everything I ordered?" Thorne greeted with a smile while standing at the door looking at the excited expression of the dwarf.

After he finished speaking, he entered the simple blacksmith shop next to the street in Xiacheng District, and immediately felt a surge of heat coming towards him, in stark contrast to the cold sea breeze outside.

The dwarf player Broto in front of him is a very skilled blacksmith, and Thorne's weapon attrition is done here.

His chosen race is a standard shield dwarf or mountain dwarf.

Due to the influence of iron and flames, his fair skin is gradually changing to a bronze color. Under a simple gray cloth, he is covered with strong muscles, and his brown hair and beard are **** casually because of some obstacles.

In the world of Toril, the shield dwarves are well-known craftsmen, best at processing metal and stone.

They prefer to devote their energy to their craft rather than the flamboyant artwork and flashy gilding of their golden dwarf brothers.

The work of shield dwarves is enduring, and they leave a personal and unique mark on their immortal masterpieces as a way of attaining eternity.

And the player Broto is just like this. The purpose of entering the game was not to fight and kill and experience the exciting life of adventurers.

This is an inextricable player who is obsessed with blacksmiths. Two years of blacksmithing career have made him the best blacksmith in the lower part of Winter City.

But the only pity is that he is not interested in magic runes, which is the fundamental reason why he has never been able to forge enchanted weapons.

"What a joke, how dare I neglect what you asked for Thorne? Although I always thought you had died in a dark dungeon, Broto will still do what he promised."

After the dwarf finished speaking, he immediately jumped off the stone platform beside the iron forge, walked to Thorne, raised his head and handed over the pipe in his hand:

"Come on! Brother, to celebrate your new life, try the tobacco from the Northland halflings. I've worked so hard to get it, and these addictive things have cost me almost all of my savings."

Thorne was not interested in tobacco, and shook his head in rejection.

The tobacco in Broto's hands was brought by the merchants from the northern wasteland of Winterfell through the Neverwinter Sea, and was a specialty of the stronghearted halflings who lived there.

This kind of tobacco is basically rich and difficult to buy. Like tea from the mainland of Karatu, it is a good thing that many spellcasters are keen on.

But unfortunately, the road to Karatu has disappeared, and the amount of tea leaves is no longer available.

Tobacco made by halflings has a faint scent when lit, which can help spellcasters refresh their minds and make them enter a state of meditation faster. It is also a rare luxury in the aristocratic circle.

But watching the rude dwarf in front of him enjoying this kind of thing, Thorne suddenly felt a waste of time, like a cow chewing a peony. It is hard to imagine that, as a dwarf who has been in the iron furnace all the year round, he never drinks alcohol.

"Since it's all done, take it out, I'm in a hurry." Then Thorne took out a dozen arrow shafts from the dimensional bag at his waist, put them on the stone table next to him, and sat on the stool to Broto.

Tomorrow morning, he will leave Winter City as soon as possible, and Thorne still needs to prepare a lot of necessities for the long journey. Seeing that it is getting dark, he does not want to waste time.

"It seems that this dark dungeon has not worn away your impatient temper. I just heard Storm say that you are still alive, and I saw you in Andrina's bar with my own eyes. I don't quite believe it..."

While talking, Broto walked towards the shelf in the stone house, and then picked up a dusty wooden box.

He blew lightly at the wooden box, and the dust filled the air, and then walked towards Thorne.

Broto put the wooden box on the table, patted the dust on his clothes and beard, and said:

"Did you know? Pardo, the little nephew of Storm's old dwarf, has successfully become a wizard, otherwise that stingy guy wouldn't have gone to the bar to celebrate, and then met you out of luck."

Broto? Pardo? Thorne thought for a moment and finally remembered.

Last month, when he was fighting with a bandit player in Andrina's small bar, he almost accidentally injured a dwarf player who likes to eat melons. It should be him.

In the lower part of Winter City, there are not many players in the group, and the players who choose the dwarf race are even more numerous. After all, that height... everyone knows it.

They are basically some melee players, relying on their good attribute panels, workers who do some cool work at the dock.

Although he was a little tired, he could at least survive, unlike him who risked his life every day to fight with blood, and one day he might turn into a cold corpse.

Thorne has probably guessed who Broto is talking about, as for the wizard players...

He somewhat admired the perseverance of the other party. Before the accident in this game, the profession of wizard can be said to be avoided by many players.

Because the Pardo that Broto just mentioned is a very ready-made example. It took two years to successfully inaugurate as a level 1 wizard, which really has no gaming experience.

Although wizards are noble spellcaster professions, they are not as powerful as they imagined until they master spells above the third level.

Melee occupations can deal with one or two weak humanoids such as goblins and kobolds alone after training for at least about half a year.

Working as a wizard for two years, is this playing a game?

However, the accident a year ago made players realize that the game is actually playing all the players, and the players were all played by the game and were ruthlessly thrown into this dangerous world!

Thorne gently opened the wooden box on the table, and a box of neatly arranged arrows appeared in front of him with a faint cold light.

A complete arrow is composed of arrow, shaft and feathers.

Thorne can easily handle both the shaft and the feather, but he can't do anything about the arrow alone, so his arrows are custom-made here in Broto and then assembled by himself.

Thorne picked up an arrow smeared with anti-rust grease, and after feeling the weight in the palm of his hand, nodded with satisfaction.

So immediately picked up the arrow shaft and began to assemble.

Armored Arrow:

Abilities: Pierce +2, Armor Break +1

(Note: The arrows sharp enough to penetrate the armor, matched with the feathers of the Jedral arrow bamboo and the vicious eagle from the southern kingdom, the power and accuracy should not be underestimated!)

Thorne assembled all the arrows, put them all into the quiver, then took ten gold coins from his pocket and put them on the table, and turned to leave.

But when he was about to reach the door, he paused and turned around abruptly.

Thorne looked at the busy shield dwarf Broto, and said solemnly: "Winter City is precarious, I advise you to leave as soon as possible!"

After speaking, he disappeared into the crowd outside the door without hesitation.

In Winter City, Broto can be said to be a relatively good friend except for the girl, the paladin Nolan. Thorne's intuition told him that Winter City really couldn't stay any longer.

So he gave Broto a wake-up call, and it was up to him whether the other party cared about it or not.

Broto heard Thorne's advice, and the hand that was swinging the hammer stopped in mid-air, and finally put it down slowly.

His rough face showed a rare sadness, and he muttered to himself: "After leaving here, where should I go?"

Broto is a shield dwarf who is both grateful and sad for his wise choice...

Because this race has a lifespan of nearly 400 years, after suffering torment, his only goal in life is to live plainly!

"The glorious guardian - the legendary wizard Kaladena will surely protect this city of miracles that has survived the turbulent times!"

Broto muttered to himself when he saw the magnificent wizard tower outside the window.

Because he remembered Pardo who had just arrived with the old dwarf Storm. The young wizard was very talkative and told him a lot about the legendary wizard.

Broto's silver-blue eyes became firm, and the hammer in his hand became stronger.