Within an open stretch of land inside the Territory of Flame, voices overlapped together to form a low but persistent hum. Like a murmur of a distant creek - an intonation, brimming with energy. Only, those who cast it were not mages but hawk-eyed merchants instead.
Their avaricious eyes gleamed, appraising the busy throng. Light snow fell in the background, a thin fog covering the market, the result of countless exhalations.
The traders called out and haggled, hoping to entice whoever entered the trading grounds to a satisfactory trade. They were a skilled and ruthless bunch, the frenzied intensity of their efforts reminding Alden of a pack of rabid beasts, intimidating anyone who did not wish to struggle or vie with them in vain.
He saw merchants openly manipulating their customers, charging prices that were almost obscene, and as volatile as quickly shifting sand. Their words, phrases and demeanour differed with each interaction, as fickle as one who only sought more coin.
