Halvath

The city of Halvath was a living, breathing beast of stone and flesh. Its streets pulsed with life, from the clatter of hooves on cobblestones to the shouts of merchants hawking wares in the bustling marketplaces. Smoke from blacksmiths' forges mingled with the aroma of roasted meat and fresh-baked bread, creating a scent uniquely Halvath's—a mix of industry, trade, and survival. 

Through the winding streets walked a young man named Kaelen Drast, his footsteps steady but unhurried. At twenty, he was fresh to the world of mercenary work, his armor still bearing the polished sheen of newness, his sword strapped to his side a little too perfectly positioned, betraying his inexperience. Yet his strides carried determination, a hint of the fire that had driven him to leave his quiet village and seek his fortune among the hardened fighters and hired blades of Halvath.