Corntelyn
Nestled along a string of small patches of woodland once part of the Eltawin Forest, the town of Corntelyn lies oppressed as much of the southlands are. Its narrow cobbled streets twist and wind like the roots of a great tree, with moss-covered stone walls leaning in, as though eavesdropping on the whispers of the townsfolk. The air is thick with the scent of pine and earth, but also with an undercurrent of fear.
Soldiers clad in blood red iron armour patrol the streets, their eyes cold and unyielding, ensuring that no one dares to resist the empire's will. Beneath their watchful gaze, the villagers live in quiet submission, their lives bound to the land they call home but controlled by an unseen, oppressive force.
The town’s marketplace is small, with wooden stalls selling meagre wares—wild mushrooms, herbs, and hand-carved trinkets—yet beneath the surface, something stirs. Unspoken alliances and hidden rebellion flourish in the shadows of the twisting streets, talks of a forgotten magic that once protected the land are spoken in hushed tones.
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