All roads lead to the City in this Age, or so they say. Certainly this one has.
Behind you--to the west--the Green Lands have flattened out and lost their lushness, the great forests of Eresnibor and Tymrac just patches of green in the distance.
To the south, the land slopes down to the rocky shoreline of the bay, a single lighthouse standing watch from the tip of the peninsula that shields the City's docks from the rough waters of the Abyssine Rift Strait.
Far to the north, the ridges of the Blue Mountains lurch up from the lowlands, their peaks wreathed in silver-grey cloud.
Ahead looms the Great Outer Wall of the City, the last bastion of humanity on the fringe of the creeping Wasteland; beneath you, sand already fills the cracks in the Kimrilaan Road and makes small dunes among the grasses, heralding the slow advance of the desert. Tents of all colors and sizes flank the road on either side, running right up to the wall. Peddlars cry out to you as you pass, wagons and carriages rumble by, beggars hold out importuning hands. The gates to the City are wide open and unguarded, the road vanishing among the buildings within.
As you take in your surroundings, someone tugs on your sleeve. You turn, expecting another beggar only to find a curious stranger: a young woman, her red hair a riot of curls under her felt hat, the bright blue plume in it matching her coat. She smiles up at you, dark eyes twinkling with some private amusement. "You looked a little lost," she said. "Need some help?"
Before you can answer, she has you by the sleeve again, shiny black boots clicking on the cobbles as she tugs you forward. "They call me the Player in certain circles, but I'm quite capable of playing the Guide. Now, where did you want to go?"
Into the City To the Green Lands To the Cold Lands To the Wasteland
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