We have officially entered a city ruled by supervillains.
At least that is what everyone keeps calling them.
According to the travelers we met along the eastern routes, Grimhaven is controlled entirely by an organization known as The League of Eternal Darkness.
Which honestly sounds less like a criminal syndicate and more like a theater troupe suffering from severe emotional commitment issues.
Unfortunately nobody else seemed to find this suspicious.
The journey east from Greyharbor lasted ten days.
Mostly dunes.
Dry wind.
Red sand.
Broken rock formations.
Occasional caravans moving quickly in the opposite direction whenever Grimhaven was mentioned aloud.
Most travelers advised us to avoid the city entirely.
One merchant claimed Lord Nyctharios the Unraveling Eclipse personally devours hope itself.
Another swore Lady Valthyria the Abyss Weaver can unravel the human mind simply by speaking.
Someone else insisted Baron Zorvathian the Eternal Fracture once split reality open beneath an entire army.
Ryn looked genuinely concerned during several of these conversations.
Spathian looked deeply tired.
“Can we please not go inside?” he asked at least three separate times.
Ryn refused.
Apparently she already knew about Grimhaven through trade rumors.
According to her, the city remains strangely stable despite its reputation.
Travelers pay entrance tax.
Avoid causing problems.
Avoid entering something called the Dark Citadel.
Then leave quickly.
Personally I thought this sounded manageable.
In hindsight this assessment may have been incorrect.
The city appeared near sunset.
And honestly…
it looked exactly like a child’s nightmare after excessive sugar consumption.
Black towers.
Purple sky somehow localized directly above the city despite completely normal weather surrounding the desert.
Massive skull decorations.
Spiked walls.
Laughing gargoyle statues.
Artificial lightning striking tall towers continuously for no apparent reason.
At one point I saw a banner reading:
“ALL HOPE SHALL DROWN IN ETERNAL NIGHT.”
The paint was peeling slightly near the bottom.
The guards at the gate wore enormous black armor lined with animal fur despite the desert heat.
One carried a cape so large it kept dragging across the ground behind him dramatically.
Another somehow had glowing red eyes beneath his helmet.
I suspect lantern positioning.
The strange part is that the citizens themselves seemed…
normal.
Children ran through market streets chasing each other with wooden toys.
Street vendors sold grilled meat and fried pastries.
An old woman yelled at someone for knocking over fruit near the fountain.
Nobody behaved oppressed.
If anything, the civilians looked vaguely accustomed to the surrounding absurdity.
The entrance tax cost one gold per person.
Ryn looked more disturbed by this than the skull towers.
“That’s too cheap,” she muttered afterward.
Apparently she expected evil-controlled cities to charge significantly more.
Merchant logic continues terrifying me occasionally.
We rented rooms at a small inn near the southern district shortly after arriving.
Unfortunately the city also contains excellent street food.
This became relevant later.
I became separated from Ryn and Spathian near the lower market while purchasing fried cheese skewers from a vendor wearing fake vampire teeth.
Actually no.
The vendor may have been real.
At this point I genuinely cannot tell anymore.
The streets near the upper district gradually became quieter while I wandered.
Fewer civilians.
More black banners.
More guards.
Eventually even the buildings changed.
Everything taller.
Sharper.
Overdesigned.
Then I realized I could no longer hear the market.
At approximately the same moment, I also realized the enormous fortress looming ahead was probably the Dark Citadel people kept warning us about.
In my defense—
the path leading toward it was not blocked properly.
I turned around immediately.
Unfortunately several armored figures were already standing behind me.
Very large armored figures.
One pointed dramatically.
Actually dramatically.
Like stage theater.
“SPY OF THE CAPITAL,” he declared.
“YOU DARE TRESPASS UPON THE DOMAIN OF THE ETERNAL NIGHT.”
I attempted explaining that I was merely lost while holding fried cheese.
This did not improve the situation.
Another guard accused me of suspicious wandering behavior.
Which admittedly sounded fairer.
Now I am writing this entry from a prison cell beneath the Dark Citadel.
The strange part is that the prison is…
surprisingly comfortable.
There are blankets.
Candles.
A small writing desk.
Someone even left snacks beside the bed.
I do not understand this city at all.
A few minutes ago I heard dramatic organ music somewhere above the prison halls.
Then someone screamed:
“THE ECLIPSE DRAWS NEAR.”
Immediately afterward another voice shouted:
“WHO TOUCHED THE THRONE ROOM LIGHTNING LEVER AGAIN?”
I am beginning to suspect Grimhaven may not function entirely correctly.
Komentar
Posting Komentar