Eternally Grateful
The sky was getting dark.
The Wilderness had never felt so alien and terrifying. The chirping of birds was gone, as were the howls and growls of animals. All that remained was a heavy, oppressive silence.
Amidst these desolate, pitch-black woods, a long procession of caravans was making its way with the slowness of a snail towards the North, heading with a heavy heart towards their only hope: the Shatug Empire. The land where the Celestial City had taken up residence.
The men and women driving these caravans were typical peasants. Not all of them were human, but all the creatures and aliens present were definitely on the lower end of the social ladder.
Humans, goblins, elves, dwarves, halflings and even more unusual creatures made up this long procession and on each of their faces one could read resignation but also a faint ray of hope. It was this minute hope that gave them the impetus to push forward despite their exhaustion.