In a time that is now known of as “The Before” all was right with the world. Magic was everywhere as a trusted tool in the hands of respected practitioners, the Ascondean Empire was the pinnacle of civilization (in their own minds at least), and people were more or less free to live their lives to the fullest.
Currently, the caravan is heading north from Eoliane and the famed Desert Meet of the spring. This year, Pal’tan spent a bit longer at the Meet than he would have usually since the trading was especially fierce and prosperous, as were the pit-fights and the betting that went on around them. Several fighters (most often guards from competing caravans) stood out, and despite his better judgement, Pal’tan stayed out the entire Meet when several of his own men (and those in accompanying caravans) rose to fame and popularity in the pits. Now, he is travelling north to Cynosure, the largest and most developed city outside the Empire, and he is doing so later in the year than he would usually. This has driven him to make better time than he normally would attempt which has created more than a few of its own problems in terms of the mechanics of the vehicles and the morale of the crews. The land here is dry and dusty and although much of the road north to Cynosure is well within reach of the coastline, the heat and emptiness of the Southern Wastes has taken its toll on man and beast (and by man, of course, any humanoid; no racism here). It has been a long, hard month of tough travelling.
Cynosure is about a week’s travel distant, but by late tomorrow, the caravan should reach the outpost of Rangon Bay, a small settlement of Mongrels along the coast.