Unbound

Down the main thoroughfare, the new construction continued, though beyond those blocks, Archie could tell it was mostly residential. The town was too small for much else. The quality of homes varied as the smell of mildew and water filled the air. A thin river cut through the southern end of the town, and the homes changed rapidly from large estates near the center of town to hovels at the muddy coastline.

Hmm. Less crowds in the side streets, but more blind alleys, it looks like. Those were always good places to find a less than savory element. We’ll try down by the river next.

At the moment, they were following the crowds. They thickened considerably the farther they traveled along the main road, until it reached a fever pitch at the very center of town. There, a wide circular plaza formed, with dozens of stores placed around its circumference. People of all shapes and sizes flowed like small currents, trekking in and out of the shops, resting at cafes, or entering the tall edifice of dark stone and mithril-capped spires. It looked like a gothic cathedral, and it dominated the center of the plaza. A Half-Orc wrapped in dark blue robes and sandals loudly proclaimed it to be the Hall of Judgment in between diatribes against theft and cruelty.

Archie paused, leaning casually against a stained fountain. Water dribbled from it, but parts of it were choked by curling vines. “They outright worship the Twins here. Reminds me of Birchstone.”

“Why?”

“The Dwarves love Noctis, at least the traditional-minded ones do.” Archie gestured at the chorister across the square. “Lots of this happens on the streets of that city.”

“Do they do that in Birchstone, too?” Beef asked, jerking his chin up at the thin spires that fronted the Hall. Large, black iron cages hung there, exactly the same as the one’s outside the town gates.

“Nah. They’re more likely to stick a Troll’s head on a pike.”

"I hate this," Beef said. He sounded sick. "What's the purpose of monster corpses here?"