A madness that ought not to have been allowed to be. Years of scheming, corruption, and unpredictability.
And wherever one looked, that wealth was echoed, in the clothing of the passersby, and in the many statues that stood in front of storefronts, and on street sides. The finest craftsmanship had been put into every part of the city. Even the tall lamp posts, that burned with thick candles by evening, were home to intricate details, as metal workers competed with others for the finest sculpture. No two lamp posts were alike – each were art pieces.
"You didn't knock hard enough," Blackthorn guessed, when there was no response forthcoming from inside the house. She ought to have been resting after her journey, but she'd thrown herself into their minor mission as soon as there was an opportunity to be presented. Verdant had come as well, stating that, if there were any problems at the gates, as Greeves supposed there might be due to the Guild, then it would be better to have a name that could be leveraged.