Chapter 170: The High Oracle's Tantrum
The air near the crown of the World Tree was thin and freezing cold.
Draven and Lyra stood in the shadows of a massive, glowing archway. Beyond the archway lay the High Temples. The architecture here was breathtaking.
Enormous spires of white crystal and polished silver spiraled toward the night sky, completely untouched by the industrial grime of the Dwarven city far below.
However, something was terribly wrong with the sky.
"Look at the temple spires," Lyra whispered, pointing a slender finger upward.
Draven narrowed his gray eyes. A thick, unnatural gray fog clung heavily to the highest branches and the crystal rooftops. It did not behave like normal weather.
The fog seemed to aggressively swallow the ambient starlight, creating a suffocating dome of dull gray shadows over the entire temple district.
"It is an artificial atmospheric dampener," Lyra explained quietly, keeping her Elven noble posture rigid.
