The dirt road to Dustfall stretched before them like a tarnished ribbon, guiding Naomi Phillips and her companions toward the aptly named settlement. As they approached, she observed the town through calculated eyes—a perpetual shroud of gray-brown dust hung in the air, coating every surface with a ghostly pallor. Buildings that might once have boasted vibrant colors now wore the same dreary uniform, as though the town itself had surrendered to the elements.
Naomi's gaze methodically cataloged the defenses. Five watchtowers strategically positioned. Multiple guard patrols crisscrossing the perimeter. Three distinct uniforms marking territory—blue for Empire forces, white for Winter Court representatives, and black for some local power player she couldn't immediately identify. The distribution suggested no single faction held dominance, creating an unstable equilibrium that practically screamed profit opportunity—and danger.
