Out of Asylum
“It’s at the center of the Reach, so Crossings-folk are like to believe they are better than other folk. You can see it in their eyes.”
Old Man Edwin paused there to spit on the floor, and take another draught from his fifth mug of the night.
“Nearly lost my eye, my sword n’ my heart in that city, I did! Her names was Kiera, and she has this great set of —what? Oh, Crossings, yeah.”
He took another drink and looked through the window for a moment wistfully, touching the scar under his eye before continuing.
“The place spews smoke into the sky, calls it all ‘progress’. There’s weird faerie spires right in the middle of things, an’ people just build around them and pay them no mind. It’s a weird place. The streets are more tangled up than Sixton, if ya can believe that! Ran into a few problems with The Guild there, thick thieves they are. Be wary of anyone from the Emporium—though you can buy and sell almost everything there, that’s often a problem because, well… anything. I thought my sword was gone for good, I did. But it found it’s way back. Just like me.”