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Mood: A crackling fire in a chamber deep beneath the earth. Songs by the hearth and the crash of a blacksmith's hammer on sparking metal.
Smells Like: Spicy black pepper and bright bergamot anchored in deep woods.
As you light this candle, it illuminates a cliff face. Silver lines snake through the smooth gray rock revealing a doorway invisible mere moments before. The door creaks open to reveal a short, stocky figure holding aloft a glowing lantern. He smiles above a braided beard and beckons you to enter.
Inside a roughly hewn chamber, carved from the living stone itself, a surprisingly cozy hearth awaits. Fire crackles, wafting spicy smoke with a trace of well-aged wood around you. Your host offers you a seat before taking up an ancient harp, worn but well-crafted and carefully maintained. His deep, sonorous voice drones around you as he strums the strings of his instrument. His song speaks of the lofty halls of regal lords, treasures hidden deep beneath the earth, and heroes fallen in defense of mountain homes.
His people sprang from the earth itself, and like the earth, they are strong and patient, keepers of secrets and old ways, masters of the hidden paths beneath the world.