FIA
The road to Nocturne stretched longer than the map suggested it would. Trees gave way to rolling hills that looked painted onto the landscape, too perfect to be real. The further north we drove, the more the architecture changed. Silvercreek had favored function over form—squat buildings built to withstand harsh winters, practical and unremarkable. Skollrend leaned into old-world grandeur and wealth with its stone keeps and defensive walls.
Nocturne was something else entirely.
The pack territory announced itself through wrought iron gates that curved into elaborate patterns depicting wolves running beneath a crescent moon. Beyond them, cobblestone streets wound between buildings that belonged in a European fairy tale. Steep-pitched roofs covered in dark slate, pale stone walls that caught the afternoon light, window boxes overflowing with late-season flowers. Everything looked meticulously maintained, like someone had frozen a moment in time and refused to let it age.
