In the world of Valterra, where ancient forces of light and darkness clash, the Primordials awaken. Marcus, a seasoned warrior, embarks on a perilous quest to unite a group of extraordinary beings known as the Primordials to face the Dark and its mi...
At dusk in the City of Endure, the merchants working their outer city booths tore down the poles of their colorful tents and packed up their trading wares for the day. A steady stream of men and women plodded by them and through the North Gate to the inner city. Most returned home after working the fields beyond Endure, others had enjoyed a short trip browsing and trading within the rows of the outer city market. The scent of fresh winter's wheat lofted through the air, sweetening the city's usual musk.
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Chancellor Marcus Thane stood gracefully above it all, observing from his grand arched office window in the Citadel. It faced the west where he could witness the day turn in for sleep, a favorite pastime. He had learned to appreciate the beauty in life, no matter what troubles lay ahead. His black and gold robes covered his slight belly which felt like it might burst. He had indulged, as he did too often, in more than one custard tart for dessert, but after news that Jaspel had disappeared and was presumed dead, he felt no need to curb his appetite.
It only left him troubled and cemented his decision to leave. He hoped Jaspel's initiate was safe and in good hands somewhere. He couldn't feel their presence, so they must have been somewhere far away. Though he could feel the power rising in his own initiate, a little bit every day. It was only a matter of time. The sooner he left the better, but his heart ached as he realized it may be the last time he surveyed his city's bustle.
The Citadel, where Chancellor Thane was housed, stood in the heart of Endure. It was a grand structure, its silver peaks bigger than any castle in Valterra, bigger than the Royal Church of Light in Dunne. Its huge brownstone walls inlaid with gold and silver ornaments loomed over the inner city. He heard shouts and laughter below, merriment at the days ending. The inn across the street already had a crowd waiting to get in as performers played quick melodies on the fiddle and flute while many people sang along in rhythm from inside. Smoke filled the air as chimneys were lit across the city, and candles began to burn in far off windows creating a dance of flame across the stone cityscape.
An Honor Guard walked the streets and lit the lamp lights, to give the citizens more light to lead their way. They would burn until at least midnight, anyone walking home after that would have to take their chances with the dark. Not that any should have reason to worry, but Jaspel's disappearance was an omen, at least to Marcus, a reminder the Dark was rising, and those who follow could be anywhere.
During easier days, Marcus spent his time counseling citizens and mediating concerns, whether individual needs or feuds between neighbors, he would surely miss his duties as Chancellor. More so his other responsibilities, like blessings on Feastdays and storytelling on Namedays. Those he particularly liked because there was always plenty of food afterward, not to mention the dancing and happiness those celebrations brought with them. He lived for the social aspect of his position. People brought a smile to his face and he often went out of his way to meet their needs, sometimes without having to be asked. He was certain he would be missed as well. Perhaps not by the Elders, or those he advised on the Council. He knew it was his young face, never changing, that kept them ill at ease, but they heard him all the same, and most respected his words.
