Epistles from the Murk - Part 6
Entering Mechigra was almost surreal. It was easy to remember Krovic cities as dreary in retrospect when Casterian ones, such as Lucinova, were bright and painted with a variety of vivid colors, magnificent stained-glass windows, and merchant stalls that would always try to outdo the next to get attention from passersby.
But when in the heart of Krovic civilization, what one saw meant very little compared to what one felt. Gray stone buildings were built upon gray cobbled streets, overshadowed by gray skies – a dark smudge in the otherwise stark white landscape – but you had Krovs surrounding you on all sides, yelling and bartering; children running about and playing with hoops or balls in furs, looking like jovial little bear cubs; and… well, also actual fucking bear cubs wandering about, the spirit of the place didn't come from any visual factor.