Welcome to Uldor.
The sun rose slowly above the harbor, and it gave its light to a new day, the first moments of the morning when peaceful blue birds flocked overhead whispering the words of waking to the people of Himaya. On the 5th day of Theros in the year 725 of the Era of Glory, the port city of Wortgott, the wise sister to a town long lost during the shattering war, had its citizens getting off their beds to the sounds of bells and twittering. The parliament convened its weekly session, the market opened its stalls, and the temples offered its services. The streets were beginning to crowd with the hustle and bustle of everyday life in a port, and ships started their coming and going, fishermen to sea and merchants into docks.
Darxin stifled a yawn and lazily pushed himself off the bed and onto his feet. Smells of eggs over the fire and sausage hit his nose with such piquancy that his body submitted to urge and pulled him downstairs. 'That's right, it's the weekend...' The young man recalled, the time of the week when he could relax, catch a sermon, and take a nice stroll through the city. Maybe he'd visit the inn and waiter for some easy money, for the innkeeper always enjoyed the help with her hands so occupied, or he could go to the docks and listen to bold sailors and travelers tell stories of faraway lands. Breakfast did him well in the way of energy, and with a smile to his mother and a few parting words of care, he left the only home he'd ever known to the streets of the busy town to be taken wherever his feet carried him, a bow strapped to his back and a belt with pouches attached carrying only minor amounts of silver and copper pieces. Knowing it'd do him better to take a kind demeanor with him, young Caelsancti wore a smile on his face as he strolled to the docks to watch the people scurrying about.
The sun rose slowly above the harbor, and it gave its light to a new day, the first moments of the morning when peaceful blue birds flocked overhead whispering the words of waking to the people of Himaya. On the 5th day of Theros in the year 725 of the Era of Glory, the port city of Wortgott, the wise sister to a town long lost during the shattering war, had its citizens getting off their beds to the sounds of bells and twittering. The parliament convened its weekly session, the market opened its stalls, and the temples offered its services. The streets were beginning to crowd with the hustle and bustle of everyday life in a port, and ships started their coming and going, fishermen to sea and merchants into docks.
Darxin stifled a yawn and lazily pushed himself off the bed and onto his feet. Smells of eggs over the fire and sausage hit his nose with such piquancy that his body submitted to urge and pulled him downstairs. 'That's right, it's the weekend...' The young man recalled, the time of the week when he could relax, catch a sermon, and take a nice stroll through the city. Maybe he'd visit the inn and waiter for some easy money, for the innkeeper always enjoyed the help with her hands so occupied, or he could go to the docks and listen to bold sailors and travelers tell stories of faraway lands. Breakfast did him well in the way of energy, and with a smile to his mother and a few parting words of care, he left the only home he'd ever known to the streets of the busy town to be taken wherever his feet carried him, a bow strapped to his back and a belt with pouches attached carrying only minor amounts of silver and copper pieces. Knowing it'd do him better to take a kind demeanor with him, young Caelsancti wore a smile on his face as he strolled to the docks to watch the people scurrying about.