Sol moved like a phantom through the shadows of the southern gate, his shoes striking the damp, packed ground without a sound.
The guards stationed atop the watchtowers offered quick, fervent salutes, their fists thumping against their chests in silent reverence as the Supreme Spear passed beneath the heavy ironwood gate. Sol offered a lazy, half-flick of his wrist in response, and went in.
The heavy wooden gates of the Veynar palisade swung shut behind Sol with a dull, echoing thud, cutting off the vast, silent wilderness of the Great Orrath.
Stepping into the settlement felt like walking into a different world entirely.
Where the forest outside was cold, dark, and drenched in the ancient stillness of midnight, the Veynar compound breathed with the warm, vibrant life of a newly crowned power.
