• People say they come to Moonshire for the ‘tourism’. They want to see the flair and glamour of our land on high; the open waters, the blue skies, the white stars, and the green, rolling hills to Decadae glistening in the morning sun. But alas, they are but wealthy tourists that want nothing more than to sit at their manors, drink pristine wine, and stare at the ocean for a couple days, thinking they have satisfied themselves. My dear, that is all but rubbish, your dilemma is unanswered still. You have been living the lie. If you haven’t been to the markets and the ports, you have seen not even a quarter of what you should. If you haven’t heard the jeering guttural noises, the off-key drunken lullabies, and the rambunctious stammering of a lowly trader seeking merry; if you have never witnessed a bartender at the Broken Mirror congratulate a fellow for breaking the most stuff over a guy’s back in a fight; and if you have never seen the guards whisk away a naked man trying to entice the ladies with his ale-stained breath preaching over-dramatic tales of the open seas…My friend, you have not seen Moonshire at all.

    Calvin Dextirus
    Teacher at the Academy of Mages, Moonshire Chapter

    Falon finally was catching up to Cas. They raced through the intricate tunnels littered with torchlight and sporting the light shining through the windows to the ocean as seen on the walls of the Cliffside. People inside the tunnel were given plenty of room to step aside as the two dashed on through.
    Cas turned his head back to witness Falon slowly creeping up upon his heels, his boots relentlessly pushing against the pathway. Up ahead, the sunlight at the end of the tunnel revealed the square. Cas turned away with a smile and sprinted on, pulling away from Falon.
    Falon only followed, trying desperately to catch his friend in this race. Damn how quick Cas was on his feet! It only reminded of him of past memories, when they would race through these tunnels every year they came, like children.
    Soon enough, they came to the edge and broke away from the exit of the tunnels, jumping out into the square. When the sunlight splashed against Falon’s cheeks, he came to a stop and looked around. What once was the dark innards of a salty harbor and a deep, winding tunnel was now a garden of pathways and signs. People passed by merrily down the streets and sidewalks, the few small buildings and residences towering over them. Falon became a swimmer in the deep sea of people doing their daily duties - people of many comings; sailors, traders, businessmen, all with their attire and their respects, the many mingling voices turning into a rather chaotic display of social interaction. It was all so different from what Falon was used to on the ship, and no matter how many times he visited this place, it was always beautiful, it was always different, and it was always a bit intimidating. Here stood him now, a low adventurer in leather armor, standing amongst the society of one of the busiest harbor cities in the entire empire! And yet, no one really noticed it but him. People just went on with their business. Falon, being so different than these commoners, was but a ghost. Cute thought, he figured, and decided to look around.
    People were clustered into small groups, laughing and walking with each other; people of many creeds. There were northerners, elves, westerners like he was, and even orcs freely engaging in social interaction. Guards were posted around, watching with hawk-like eyes and holding their brandished silver lances. Their ornate, steel armor shined in the mid-day sun of dragons and royal crests, signifying their order in society. As Falon looked around, he would occasionally see a guard speaking with another or a citizen, often giving them directions to other parts of the city. Some guards wandered around on patrol, watching just as well for any sign of trouble. Trade and harvest season was a breeding ground for thieves.
    To himself, Falon finally was becoming comfortable, relishing the moment of being in the big city. The tall buildings of stone, the high, secure walls behind him and around the city, even with all these people around, he just felt welcome and secure. Though it was probably a feeling of a non-conspicuous nature, he did not care – this was a feeling to adore.
    Suddenly, he felt a sharp bump on his side as the shoulder of another man brushed with his, forcing them both to turn. The day-dreaming thoughts were snapped away and Falon looked at the man that had just bumped into him. His sapphire eyes looking into the brown eyes that looked into them, a slight feeling of embarrassment passed through him. Him standing here has disrupt the infinitely intricate flow of populous in this city. Opening his mouth to speak, he felt nothing but air escape as the other male lifted a hand and smiled.
    “Oh! My apologies, sir. Didn’t see you there,” he said in a deep, husky voice.
    Falon blinked again and just returned the friendly gesture. “It’s no problem at all.”
    The man put a finger to his chin in a rather inquisitive pose. “Your accent is a bit different, lad. You not from around here?”
    “I’m not,” replied Falon with a nod. “I’m just passing through with my friends.”
    The man nodded and extended a hand, giving another smile. A curious-looking fellow he was, a northerner, with striking black hair and flaring yellow pupils, Falon was slightly put off by not just the striking appearance, but by a strange feeling he got. “Well, it’s always good to see more people coming to our city. Name’s Vilis Facilis, I’m a potter.”
    Falon looked at the hand and hesitantly offered his, it being clamped greedily by Vilis’, and given a hearty shake. This gregarious gesture was a bit odd for Falon, and this man looked a bit more toned than for a potter. A shady fellow he felt, but he shook this feeling off. This man was just being nice! “I’m Falon of the Amaranth. I’m a sailor.”
    Vilis gave a slight pause, his eyes widening a bit in surprise. “Ah! An adventure-seeker! I have heard of the Amaranth, a wonderful ship, I hear.” spoke Vilis with slight awe. “I figured you were a sea-farer. You certainly do look like a strong lad. Not many of your type stray away from the marketplace.”
    “Well, I was just heading that way.”
    “Ah. Well, I best not be in your way, seeing as though I myself have business to fare to. Oh, and be wary of the market, my friend. Around this time of year, things get a bit hasty there. Well, until then, farewell!” And just as expedient as their greetings, Vilis was gone, in stepping past Falon, leaving him standing on the sidewalk. Falon just stared at the man walking away. Something was simply not right with today.
    Falon only gave a wave to the departed and turned to the street, his feet carrying him across it to a signpost. Looking up at it, he began reading the inscriptions on it. The square was a terminal between four of the major business attractions in Moonshire: the harbor was to the south, through the tunnels that ran along the ridgeline over the shores; the upper terraces were to the east, where the more ornate services and traders go such as potters, tailors, and logging; to the west was Ridgepoint where the Mages academy was; and at north was Falon’s destination: the market district. Falon broke away from the sign and looked to the north, seeing the large archway gate into the markets, some smoke billowing into the sky. With a nod, Falon swung his large knapsack over his shoulder and walked down the street to it, the guards giving him a glance as he went.

    Agnus closed his book with a huff, a raspy sigh sounding from his throat. Standing from his seat, he stepped to the bookshelf to replace it when he heard a faint tapping on his door. With a low growl, he walked over to the door to open it. “Yes?”
    On the other side of the threshold stood a lone guard, him gently tapping the blunt end of his lance to the wooden floor. “Pardon my intrusion, sir, but we have been advised that a storm is coming and that we should warn all the shipmasters of it. I suggest you get your crew and find a place to stay for the night.”
    Agnus arched a brow and shook his head. “Impossible, lad - there cannot be a storm tonight, the weather won’t allow it.”
    “I know, but the astrologists really are certain on it.”
    “Listen, I have been a sailor for all of my life.” Agnus pushed gently aside the guard and pointed out to the horizon. “Now, you tell me as you look out there that there is any sign of a…” His voice trailed off, himself blinking agape at the horizon. Behind the sun, and at a distance away was what seemed a gigantic array of dark clouds, slowly heading towards. The guard looked at Agnus in slight confusion, as Agnus simply stared out at the strange sight. It was unsettling. “Leave me, lad,” said Agnus. And, giving little hesitation, the guard turned and left.
    Agnus kept moving ahead, his feet carrying him to the other side of the ship. The clouds were thick, dense, and approaching ever slowly.