Harvest Town
Fields that once blushed golden with grain lie barren now, furrowed earth hardened like scars. Fences sag. Scarecrows stand, but their heads droop. Crows no longer bother to mock them.
As you draw nearer, the air thickens—not with smoke or mist, but something heavier. Stale. Sweet and sour. A breath that’s lingered too long in lungs that can no longer exhale. The occasional cough carries on the wind, wet and ragged.
People move slowly here. Those who still move at all. Faces peer from shuttered windows. Wary. Hollow-eyed. The young carry the weight of the old. The old are mostly gone.
A few banners still hang from the rafters above the square—faded cloth once bearing sigils of sun and wheat. They barely stir now, limp in the windless stillness that blankets the town like a fevered dream.
As you draw nearer, the air thickens—not with smoke or mist, but something heavier. Stale. Sweet and sour. A breath that’s lingered too long in lungs that can no longer exhale. The occasional cough carries on the wind, wet and ragged.
People move slowly here. Those who still move at all. Faces peer from shuttered windows. Wary. Hollow-eyed. The young carry the weight of the old. The old are mostly gone.
A few banners still hang from the rafters above the square—faded cloth once bearing sigils of sun and wheat. They barely stir now, limp in the windless stillness that blankets the town like a fevered dream.
Included Locations
Owning Organization
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