Gray stone walls reaching as high as the naked eye could see; spires, with long wooden spikes from which there hung blood-red banners, were the only aberrant factors in the otherwise gray and white landscape. That, and the large stone doors, made up the gate to the city of Frostborg.
“Not sure I like the look of this one,” Ash mumbled.
Zennereth sighed, “I’m not sure this town… is meant to be liked by outsiders.” He pointed to one of the many spike-covered spires. A corpse was dangling from a rope fastened around one of the many spikes.
“Seems you’re right.”...