The sun hung high above the skies as Blue Stone City stood proudly, its massive stone walls glistening faintly under the golden light. The city gate was alive with activity—heavy wooden doors wide open, guards in gleaming armor standing tall at their posts. The clamor of footsteps, neighing horses, and merchants shouting about their wares filled the air as streams of people passed in and out. Some were merchants with laden carts, others travelers cloaked in dust, while commonfolk bustled through with baskets and bags.
Among this tide of humanity, a particular group entered silently. They moved together, their figures wrapped in grey cloaks, faces hidden beneath their hoods. Their steps were disciplined yet cautious, a quiet contrast to the noise around them.
The man leading the group turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze glimmering from under the hood. His voice was low, steady, and commanding.
