[Lawtan]

The town was a rather simple sort of place, with roads of dirt and trampled grasses. The central square held produce in wooden carts, alongside fish and the like. To east laid the blacksmith, and to the west, the bakery. Old, worn stone walls stood guard from outside threats, the only real stone in the city. We didn’t really have many visible beggars, unlike most towns – I chalked it up to the waterways pulling them outside of the city. We had a simple church, and a rustic townhouse, a tavern with beds for visiting boaters, and a few abandoned spaces. That was about it.

I went about gathering food and all from in town, so I could cater to boatmen hiding from the now more obvious storm approaching. The clouds appeared more and more ominous. Passing by the townhouse, I could hear fiery words pass under a sweltering closed-in building. After placing my supplies in the cart, I began to walk home.

Wait. There was a sound. More sounds. I heard ever more sounds from outside the wall, and the gate was closed. What was happening? Curiosity was king over reason, as it is in several people, so I attempted to better see the situation. My heart thud against my chest as I saw a blade split the old moldy wooden gate.