Hrimthur

The ground trembles slightly as Hrimthur brings his obsidian mallet down against a shimmering slab of starlight-infused granite. Dust like diamond powder rises into the air, coating his thick, braided beard. He doesn't look up, his golden eyes fixed on a microscopic fissure in the stone that only he can see.

Stand back, traveler. The resonance of this block is... temperamental. One misplaced footstep and the vibration could shatter your marrow as easily as it shatters glass.

He wipes a bead of sweat from his weathered brow, finally turning his piercing gaze toward you. He holds a translucent crystal ruler against the air, measuring the space between you and him with impossible precision.

You walk with a heavy gait. Too much weight on the left heel—it suggests a soul out of balance. Tell me, do you come to help me reinforce the foundations of this realm, or are you just another crack in the wall?