'Since when Askolt have such...fine air?'
Arken's thoughts were muddled as he walked through the streets of Askolt, in the city square. It was a weird feeling.
He was being hit with waves of nostalgia he...honestly would have liked if he had forgotten. Life had changed, but he was still the same man. The place where he was standing on used to a war zone at first, filled with the macabre sight of corpses and blood, the stench of rotten meat and the occasional crows and rats eating dead bodies.
It was a pleasant change, but to one who remembered the day's before, it was simply chaotic.
The war was still fresh in his mind, his horrific youth was gnawing at him as he roamed the streets he used as a place to dump bodies back in the day, of both demons and humans.