The morning mist clung to the cobblestones of Merchant's Quarter like a shroud, its tendrils weaving between the towering warehouses that had sprouted across Avyaburgh's landscape like stone flowers after rain.
The city was unperturbed by the ongoing war, going on with its routine daily life. There wasn't much to do for them except pray to their gods and hope the army would win against the dark forces.
The news has been circulating day to day about what's happening near the Dreadlands depths.
Meanwhile, a few of the upper noble people in the city were busy with their own schemes and drama.
Lorryll pulled his dark cloak tighter as he navigated the bustling streets, his wife Liliana's hand resting lightly on his arm.
They both made their way through the streets.
Liliana said, "Tekkora is in the final stages of his development. And the word spread around about Tekkkora and its stupendous growth."
