[ WP ] When NPCs are n't seen they are searching , constantly searching for places or items that will elevate them to the title of `` Side Quest NPC '' . It is fabled also that there is an ever greater title still .

Adventurers. They rarely come and go through these parts on their way to far off lands. In all my years here I've never seen the same one twice; which is just fine by me. I have my forge and that is all I need. I treat her well; our relationship is symbiotic after all. Only the best materials grace her fires and, from her flames, I draw the purest of alloys. I have even dabbled in the arcane to make fine machinery so small it requires magnification to assemble. 
 
 I chose to set up shop in this small hamlet to devote myself to my craft. Of course, the steady stream of elemental sprites in the nearby caves meant that I had constant access to arcane materials. I offered a pittance to passing adventurers to collect ten arcane powders. They seemed to not mind, often telling other adventurers they were `` just doing it for the experience''. Far be it from me to argue. I received a [ side quest ] status that put me on the guild map. Adventurers would come to fulfill my request in exchange for improved standing in the guild. Thanks to the steady flow of powders, and years of devotion and study, I discovered how to forge parts that retain energy. They move by the will of their imprinted owner. The only problem is, they chose who owns them. They simply wo n't function for anyone they do n't recognize as their owner. 
 
 I must have fiddled with that first spring for the bellows for weeks before it surreptitiously hopped across the table on a passing thought. From that point on, it was more of an excited coil than any spring. It was just as happy to compress as it was to release. Each part I created had its own feelings about its job; from the surly stack that would exhaust heat with a heavy sigh to the defiant anvil that held steel immobile on its breast. My forge became a symphony of emotion kept in time by the clang of hammer on steel. Conductor to percussionist, I controlled it all, was part of it all, felt it all. Every piece became my magnum opus. 
 
 I had even produced an intricate clock of silver for the king. A small handheld device with inlaid gold for the face and delicate crystal feathers for hands. Half the size of a hand was a clear crystal case that contained a bird mechanism that would `` coo'' at the top of the hour. When I presented it to the king it was timed so the clock would strike noon. I was mortified when, in the first few seconds, it did not `` coo'' at all. Had the bird not accepted his majesty? Would I be executed for this? the king handed the small clock to his young daughter, the princess. Then, to the astonishment of all, the bird sang. Not the `` coo'' of a mechanized object, but a song that struck the heart of everyone present. Its nobility and grace carried through the room and paralyzed even the guards. Its delicate beauty commanded absolute silence and awe that made all fear that if this perfect song were shattered by even a breathe the loss would crush us all. In the silence that followed the king wept and sent me on my way. 
 
 So here I am. An adventurer the likes of which I have never seen, clad in the finest of enchanted armor has come to my forge bearing a letter from the king. His overwhelming aura sapping all of my will to even move I say, `` A letter from the king? I've done nothing wrong.'' 
 
 I open the letter and read it aloud. 
 
 `` Before you stands an adventurer of the highest rank and class. His spirit and strength have proven unparalleled. He has need of your skill. Take from him his legendary weapon and the essence of his soul made material. Forge it anew so that his power may cleave our enemies asunder.'' 
 
 ( Heart and Soul ) 
 
 [ Main Story ]
