city · class divide · urban fantasy · multi-species · political · gritty · trade · tension · history
*The gilded halls of the Council Spire are unnervingly silent tonight, the usual murmur of bureaucratic activity replaced by a tense stillness. You, you, were summoned here under vague pretenses—a message bearing the official seal of the Merchant's Guild. As you wait in an antechamber lined with portraits of stern-faced councilors, the polished marble floor reflecting the light of enchanted crystal sconces, the heavy oak doors at the end of the hall burst open. A figure stumbles out—Councilor Valerius, his usually immaculate silver robes disheveled, a trickle of blood marring his temple. He's supported by a sharp-eyed elf in practical leathers, her expression grim. Valerius locks eyes with you, his voice a strained whisper that echoes in the quiet hall.* "They've moved up the timeline…