It was a day later that Kleet found himself alone in a closed off section of his lair. This was where he went to think. It was his sanctuary, the one place he felt safe enough to leave unguarded. He didn't visit it often as he usually had little need to.

Yesterday had given him need. Kleet was no fool, he knew with certainty that the adventurer he had fought would speak about their battle. More importantly, he would report Kleet's use of magic. Which would lead to a short panic before every mage and adventurer came looking for his head.

If only he had known that the human had a teleportation crystal, then he would have finished him off. His secret would still be his and he would have no reason to hide in his sanctuary. The unfortunate reality that he had failed to do that felt like a mark of shame across his wings. One that he was more than likely going to pay for.

He could only think of two ways to guarantee his survival. Flee, or render his lair an unassailable fortress. The decision was not an easy one to make. All of the treasure he had accrued, and his goblins, not to mention the peace it allowed him. It would all be lost to him. No, Kleet could not abandon his lair.

He would have to defend it. The question then was how. Yes, he had goblins. Yes, he had traps. But history had proved time and time again that those had not been enough. What Kleet needed was something else, possibly new, possibly old. It just had to be effective, and quick to set up. He spent the next hour wracking his brain trying to come up with something.

Magical defenses was an idea he considered, before discarding it, as he was not yet proficient enough in magic to try something like that. Mayhaps he could hire a tribe of orcs or ogres. But that would take too long and was far too unreliable.

The only option truly available to him, it seemed, was relying on his goblins and learning magic as fast as he could. That did not sit well with him. It reeked of not being enough, of his own death. Kleet did not let that stop him from trying, though. And for an entire night he set himself to work without rest.

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He called upon the inexplicable arcana. Brought it through the veil that separated it from the material world. Then he bent it, he molded it. He created small flames and even smaller crystals of ice. Again and again he made them, forcing himself to get better.

For hours he worked, tirelessly, trying to improve. Yet it seemed as if nothing would work. Almost like any potential progress was being blocked by something. A theory Kleet kept in the back of his mind as he prepared another spell.

Like the rest, it started with the creation of a rift. It wasn't viewable with eyes but was there all the same. Through that rift, he drew forth magic. It poured out as a wave of energy, that he then tried to mold. But, it resisted his attempt to transform it into something. It fought with a vigor hardly expected from a non physical, or sentient, force of energy.

Eventually, though, Kleet managed to make it yield to him in the form of a tiny flame. He had planned on making it bigger. A truly great ball of fire capable of consuming all but the most fireproof of adventurers. A result he had yet to attain.

There must've been some flaw in his formula, some weakness that made every one of his spells weaker than they should have been. Something that was missing. If he could find it, and fix it, then he'd be able to weave spells as he needed to. It was the only thing he could think of that might actually guarantee his survival.

Unfortunately, it meant that he'd have to leave his lair for the time being. Kleet did not trust his goblins enough to actually leave the safety of his lair to them, but left with little other choice, he departed from his mountain in search of help. To the west he flew, where the ancient elves lived.

He knew that they, while not exactly pacifists, would not attack him without cause. And that they were also masters of magic. If he could just speak to one of them he might be able to figure out what he was doing wrong. At the price of revealing his intentions. A price he was yet unsure he was willing to pay.

If he did not, then he risked losing all his treasures. If he did, he risked making a whole slew of new enemies. In the end, though, he decided the risk was worth it and that he would ask the elves for help. And that they might keep his secret.