Hewer stepped into the Village Hall, a look of bewilderment etched across his features. "My lord, I was informed you summoned me," he said, his voice tinged with confusion.

Thorian, who had been leisurely sipping tea prepared by Melina, gestured towards an adjacent seat. "Please, Hewer, join me," he invited warmly.

As the old goblin took his place, Thorian set down his teacup, his attention now fully on his guest. "Hewer, there's something I've been meaning to ask. Do you, by chance, have a son or a daughter?"

A gentle smile crept onto Hewer's face as he nodded, eyes drifting downward in reminiscence. "Indeed, I do, my lord. I married later in life, so I have but one son. He's all I have left since my wife succumbed to illness a few years ago."

Thorian's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Hewer's shoulder. "I'm deeply sorry to hear about your loss, Hewer."

Hewer shook his head slightly, his smile wistful. "It's the way of life, my lord. But ever since her passing, I've devoted myself entirely to raising our son, just as she wished."

Thorian exhaled slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "I would very much like to meet your son, if that's possible."

Surprise flashed across Hewer's face at the request. "To introduce him to you would be an immense honor, my lord."

Pleased with Hewer's response, Thorian rose to his feet, his smile genuine. "Then let's not delay. Where might we find your son at this hour?"

After a moment of contemplation, Hewer replied, "At this time, he's likely to be at the warrior guild, engaged in his training, my lord."

Thus, Thorian and Hewer made their way towards the warrior's guild. The training grounds, vibrant with the sounds of clashing steel and focused shouts, welcomed them. There, amidst the flurry of activity, they spotted a young goblin, Mart, rigorously practicing with a wooden sword against a training dummy.

Hewer's voice cut through the din. "Mart," he called, capturing the attention of the young trainee. "Come here, at once."

At first, Mart appeared bewildered, but as his gaze landed on Thorian, recognition and surprise flickered across his features. "The lord?" he murmured, eyebrows arching.

"Approach, young man," Thorian beckoned, prompting Mart to set aside his sword and swiftly approach. "Tell me, Mart, which squad do you belong to? And who is your leader?"

"Our squad is led by Sir Ventus, my lord," Mart replied, snapping to attention with military precision.

Thorian almost chuckled at the formal title given to Ventus but maintained a composed demeanor. "And what is your opinion of Ventus?" he inquired.

Mart responded without hesitation, "Sir Ventus is an exceptional commander, my lord. His strength is formidable. When he leads us, fear is a stranger to us; we believe no human or monster could rival Sir Ventus in combat."

"Good," Thorian said, his smile genuine. "Ventus is indeed a potent magus, one of the village's strongest. Few, magi or otherwise, could best him in single combat. Observe him closely, for to emulate him would be to walk the path of great power."

Mart bowed deeply, reverence in his voice. "It is an honor to hear your words, my lord. However, my aspirations lie in a different direction. I do not seek to follow in Sir Ventus's footsteps."

Thorian's eyebrow arched in surprise at Mart's declaration. Quite a bold young man, he thought.

Hewer, however, was visibly shaken. "M-Mart, what are you saying?" he stammered, his face blanching. "Such audacity in front of the lord is unbecoming!"

"No disrespect was perceived," Thorian interjected, gesturing for Hewer to calm down. He then turned to Mart, his expression piqued with curiosity. "Now, explain yourself, Mart. Why do you not aspire to follow in Sir Ventus's footsteps? Do you not desire strength?"

"I do, my lord, more than anything," Mart answered earnestly. "But while Sir Ventus's path as a magus is admirable, it is not mine to tread. I am a warrior. My aspiration is to emulate General Zogarth and, hopefully, serve under his command one day."

Thorian's laughter was light, and he affectionately ruffled Mart's hair. "A lofty ambition indeed, young one. But remember, the journey to such heights is fraught with challenges. You must outwork your peers, for those at the summit aren't idly waiting. They, too, are relentlessly striving to become stronger."

Mart stood tall, meeting Thorian's gaze. "Your wisdom is invaluable, my lord. I will carry it in my heart and strive to not disappoint."

Amused by the young goblin's determination, Thorian gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Excellent. I eagerly await witnessing your growth. Now, return to your training. Your father and I have matters to discuss."

"Of course, my lord," Mart replied with a respectful nod, then returned to his training, attacking the dummy with renewed vigor and determination.

Watching the young goblin's intense practice, Thorian chuckled and turned to Hewer. "You've raised a fine son. With that attitude, he's destined for great things."

Hewer, scratching his head modestly, replied, "Thank you, my lord. Yet, it's precisely his forthrightness that concerns me. His honesty, while admirable, sometimes leads him to cross lines unknowingly."

"True honesty is a virtue," Thorian mused, still watching Mart. "But it must be backed by the strength to face its consequences."

Hewer nodded in agreement, following Thorian's gaze.

After a few moments, Thorian faced Hewer again. "My friend, there's a project I need you to oversee. As always, I will ensure you are handsomely rewarded."

He glanced back at Mart. "As part of the reward, I will allow Mart to select an item from my personal armory. It contains weapons, armor, and various equipment that would significantly aid his development."

Hewer protested, "My lord, that's unnecessary. As our king, your command is all I need to act."

Thorian, however, shook his head. "Proper work deserves proper reward, and I expect nothing less than your best on this project."

Hewer fell silent, considering the offer. After a moment, he looked up, curiosity in his eyes. "Thank you for your gracious offer, my lord. May I inquire about the details of this project?"

"I need you to construct carts," Thorian said with a smile, taking a stick to sketch out the structure on the ground.

As a seasoned carpenter, Hewer quickly grasped the concept, despite it being unfamiliar to him initially. His eyes sparkled with understanding and enthusiasm as Thorian detailed each part of the design and its purpose within the whole.

"To support the weight of heavy rocks, these carts will require metal reinforcements at the base and joints. We'll need the skills of blacksmiths, my lord," Hewer observed, looking up from the sketch.

Thorian dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. "This is not for you to worry about. I'll assign a high-ranking officer to accompany you. This will ensure everyone involved understands they're operating under my direct orders."

Hewer smiled, nodding appreciatively. "Thank you, my lord, for your foresight."

Standing up, Thorian added, "I apologize for burdening you with two projects simultaneously, Hewer."

Hewer chuckled and shook his head. "No need for apologies, my lord. We're producing fifty wooden tubs daily. By the time I develop and test the first cart prototype, all the fighters will have received their bathtubs."

"Your ability to manage time is commendable," Thorian praised, patting Hewer's shoulder. "However, I must leave now for other pressing matters. A unit leader will contact you soon regarding the project."

With that, Thorian made his way back to the Village Hall. Upon arrival, he found Zogarth and Forlune engaged in conversation.

"Fortunate to find you both here," Thorian declared, making his presence known. "It saves me the trouble of searching."

"Ah, you've returned already, king?" Forlune asked, turning to face Thorian. "Did you manage to speak with the person you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes, I did. He's now in charge of the cart production we discussed," Thorian replied, then turned to address the high orc general, Zogarth. "Zogarth, could you assign one of your unit leaders to assist Hewer, the elder goblin carpenter? He'll need support with the cart project."

"Certainly, my lord," Zogarth answered, bowing slightly. "I'll have Elder Jarvin take on this responsibility."

Thorian suppressed a chuckle at Zogarth's choice. Quite the ruthless move, he thought.

"Elder Jarvin is an excellent choice," Thorian agreed.

With a barely concealed sly grin, Zogarth departed to carry out the task.

"He's not fond of goblins, is he?" Forlune remarked with a light laugh.

"Let them work it out. It's important for them to shed their past biases, now that they're unit leaders," Thorian commented nonchalantly. He then shifted the topic, eyeing Forlune curiously. "Weren't you supposed to undergo an evolution today? You look the same."

Forlune sighed. "I was just a thousand experience points short. If it weren't for my duties here, I'd have gone out to gather the needed points through combat."

Thorian smiled. "It seems fortune favors you today."

Forlune looked puzzled. "How so?"

Thorian cracked his knuckles. "We're about to join the main party for an excursion. It's time we ventured out in search of a new Territory Altar."