Drayl returned to his actions from before Thran had entered the Deeprealm. He worked as a blacksmith in the village, providing farmers and other villagers the tools needed for everyday work. He took any food or service for payment, as the village did not have a lot of money. Once, about five years ago, a nobleman had visited Talonthorn and given everyone 100 gold. Not knowing what to use it for, everyone had given it to Drayl, who turned it into a masterpiece of a sword. This sword hung outside his shop, showing it off as a testament to his skill as a blade-forger.
Drayl now went past that golden blade to the forge, where he was working on an intricate tool for Ms. Alderberr down the road. She was a good friend of Drayl, and taught him how to use a forge. He had soon surpassed her, though. His mind wandered to what Thran had said.
"'A great evil was sent here nearby.' as if! It's as peaceful as a flower garden here," Drayl mumbled to himself, "It's not as if he was acting serious."
A few hours passed and the tool was completed. Drayl went to deliver it to Ms. Alderberr. Before he got to her house, though, a flash of light appeared in front of him.
"Wha?!" Drayl humped back before a shadowy figure appeared, weapon in hand.
The figure coalesced into a physical form; a being familiar, yet completely unknown.
"It can't be... The Hero King...?" Drayl looked at the mysterious being, who was staring at him with malevolence. The shade suddenly raised it's sword, and swung it at Drayl.