Torthuíl

Crowds of bustling merchants and laborers flow through the broad city gates pulled back against the thick walls to accommodate the traffic, the sounds of many feet, creaking cart wheels, and muffled curses reverberating off the old stones. A runner boy trips and nearly falls on the cobblestone street worn smooth by time and use, a horse rearing up and its master yelling angrily as the boy freezes before it. At the gates themselves, several people stand taking tolls for admittance into the city while members of the Ducath Guard stand chatting nearby in the warm morning sunlight. Toll paid, you walk into the city; imposing official seal carved into the stone gateway overhead and marking this place subject to their rulings and customs.   This is how you have entered the bustling trading city of Torthuíl. For one reason or another, somehow you found your way to this place full of life and the press of many souls crammed together in one space.   The only question remains, what will you find...