The city of Boulder Creek was a tough place, built on the edge of the Unclaimed Territories. It was a frontier town, the last point of civilisation before the wild, monster-infested lands to the south.
Life here had always been hard. Every day was a struggle for survival.
But for the past six months, something had changed. A strange, quiet peace had settled over the city.
The people still worked hard, the hunters still sharpened their blades, but the constant, gnawing fear was gone.
The proof of this change could be found in the city's most popular inn, the Wandering Wyvern.
Tonight, the inn was full. The large, smoky room buzzed with the sounds of laughter and loud conversation.
Mercenaries, merchants, and off-duty city guards sat at rough wooden tables, drinking cheap ale and eating roasted meat.
It was a normal, happy scene. Six months ago, a night like this would have been impossible.
