young guard, takes no pains to hide his displeasure, but after a brief standoff, he, too, stands aside, and, at last, the way into the Pale City is open.
Mercy does not know what to expect as she crosses under the rusted gate and into the city proper, but what she does find is — well, nothing particularly awe-inspiring. The walls she espied in the distance during her flight from the darkwolves were no doubt impressive in their time, but have since fallen into disrepair. Elaborate carvings, sigils matching those borne on the flag hanging on the gate, showing signs of
Just Another Struggling Writer 
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