"What's that disgusting smell?"

"Don't look. It's that hobo Grablon over there."

"Is that blood? He looks like he just came from some battle…"

I ignored the comments, and the many more that followed, heeding Eristin's warning seriously as I traveled across the tent riddled square. My hope of quickly moving to the Grablon district and finding a place to rest, eat and get my bearings had been smashed.

Eristin could have told me this square is a ten-kilometer long maze! I grumbled. Turning around another tent, I finally saw open space through a narrow path between two more tents. A wall of grey buildings lay across a four-meter wide road paved in black.

Stepping on it, I looked left and right. Each side of the road curved away from my current position, disappearing into streets lined with more of the grey stone buildings. A few trees stood out, like emerald beacons on the inner edge of the road. A few elves lay on branches, seeming to rest.

Left, she said, I thought, turning left and moving away with long paces. I felt my tension slowly leave, now that I wasn't in some claustrophobic maze of tents and idiot elves. I took a glance at the nearest tree, wondering how big the chance was that it was one of Ulderion’s sleeping followers. Probably very small.

There were still some elves on the road, but the farther I went, the emptier the street was, and when I stood before a four-meter gate between two rows of buildings, I was the only one in a dozen meters. Taking a look back, I realized I was standing on a slight elevation, as I could see out across the sea of tents and the few hundred trees scattered throughout. Three rows of grey buildings and a massive wall boxed everything in.

Does their whole district consist of tents? I wondered why anybody would prefer living inside tents over a building. Didn't it storm here? Turning around, I moved through the gate. The doors were wide open, and there was a more conventional region of the city beyond it. Grey buildings lined the sides of the Elder Road, while other paths crossed it, and I couldn’t see an end to the Elder Road.

How large is this city, I wondered as I moved forward, leaving the elven district behind me.

Very large was the answer. When I finally reached the next city section, it was getting dark, and I had only seen a few human-looking people walking around. A soft cheering and the sounds of parties had started minutes earlier. I looked through the next massive gate and saw torches and bonfires light up a chaotic set of buildings. Similar to the grey stone buildings in the district behind me, they were unevenly spaced, leaving room for open areas.

A host of cheering, drinking, and singing men and women stood around one of the bonfires between two of the buildings. Moving forward along the road paved in black stone that passed within seven or eight meters of them, I continued observing them. Although hidden by the glow of the fire, I quickly saw their skins weren't ruddy from the light but actually red and orange. Their long black hair, bound back, made visible a wide range of horns. I recognized one of the races the introduction guy had shown me on the tower, and as I remembered him, I suddenly wondered if it had been Guidar or something else.

"Heyyyy four-armed brother from another, likely four-armed mother. What happened? Did the elves fight you after you had your way with their succulent wives?"

A drawling voice shouted from amidst the partying crowd, and looking over, I saw a woman with a single horn and the snapped remains of another on her forehead laugh and point at me. She could barely stay upright, but the woman beside her kept her on her feet, although she didn't look too steady herself.

More of the Graz began turning my way, and one of them, a skinny fellow with leather pants and a pulled open, stained white shirt, whistled.

"Ah, look at that, he seems just about ready to eat! Why don't you join us? I am sure we can find some way to clean you up!" He smiled at me, a long red tongue licking his lips. He poured some of the liquid from his flask on his arm and licked it away, winking at me while the others laughed uproariously.

There wasn't any animosity or hostility that I could see, and they seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves. Seeing a few worried looks amidst the group, I laughed and waved at them.

"Perhaps next time, but I am beat after what just happened. I need to get to my own place before I get lost." I grinned when the guy who wanted to eat me booed, but one of the others shoved another flask in his hands, and he began gulping it down readily.

I made my way further into the district, leaving their happy shouting behind only to find another party some distance further. I managed to get past this one without being stopped, just trading some friendly remarks with a group of four drunk women. After passing a third and fourth group, I found I didn't actually need to answer them. If I just kept walking forward without looking, they ignored me eventually.

When I reached the next gate, it was completely dark, but the Graz seemed intent on holding back the night with fire and parties. My growling stomach stopped me from taking a last look as I moved into a massive open area that should mark the main trading hub. Shadowy figures moved about the poorly lit roofed stalls.

As I moved forward, my good mood slowly turned on edge from all the cloaked people. I saw the word stalls didn't do them justice. Passing one, I took a quick look and found they were like small four by four buildings, with a counter on one side and a door on the other. As I watched, a sad-looking Graz climbed up from a hole in the only free space in the stall, and through the hole, I stared down into a massive room filled with stacks of crates and bags.

"Can I help you?" The Graz whispered at me hopefully, but I quickly shook my head and continued on my way.

The journey through the trading district was a lot shorter than the one through the Graz district, but it was probably still large enough to house all of Sart.

When I finally reached the last gate and the one that should bring me to the Grablon district, I found four-armed guards at the gate entrance. They were blocking the entrance, and soft muttering came from two gatehouses, one on each side. There hadn't been any guards or gatehouses at any of the other gates.

Moving towards them and digging deep in my memories, I looked for the oldest one. It wasn't that hard. Each of them had grey hair and wrinkles around their sharp hard eyes as they inspected me with curious interest. One seemed older than the others, and I looked at him.

Trying to recall how Three and the other Grablons had spoken, I tried my best to mimic them.

"Guro, I've had a rough time and need a place to stay. Is there any inn I can stay in?"

Shit, that sounds like a bad script for a theater play, I cursed myself.

"You look like shit, boy. Don't tell me the elves did this?" the Grablon I spoke to said, the others smirking at me.

What the hell is up with these elves? They're like thugs that make a habit of roughing everybody up here? I quickly shook my head as I tried to come up with a way to get inside without having to explain everything, which seemed like both a time consuming and stupid thing to do.

"No, I've just arrived from outside and had a somewhat unusual route into the city," I finally said, which was mostly the truth, just not all of it.

"Did you come from the south, from Orlion?" the left Grablon asked, stepping forward and looking worried.

I shook my head, wondering why the name sounded so familiar. "No, I came from Dursic," I said, naming the only place I knew by name.

All three of the guards sucked in a breath, and the center one quickly turned to the one on the left who had asked about Orlion.

"Lorrah, take the boy to the barracks. He can rest there, and Gurossa Lin will want to hear everything he can tell about the sacking of Dursic!"

I blinked at the use of names, trying to remember what Three had told me. Did they never use names, or only not when with non-grablons? My foggy memories didn't help, as my growling stomach tried to interfere.

The middle guard grinned at me sadly. "You'll get food there, don't worry." Then he inspected me more thoroughly. "You don't look injured. If you are, they will heal you in the barracks. Be careful when speaking to the Gurossa, all of them are strict, but she is more so than most."

Before I had the chance to ask what he meant, Lorrah placed his hand on my arm and gently nudged me forward. "Let's go!" His face radiated the desire to question me, and I nodded to the others before passing through the gate.

A few steps into the district, I knew right away the Grablons were an orderly people—neat rows of buildings, clean streets, and bright lights on every corner. Lorrah led me forward for a while before he finally couldn't hold himself back anymore.

"Did you hear of any other survivors that made it out of Dursic?" he sounded worried.

"I've heard that some got away with Flowheart’s paladins, but I don't know any specifics," I replied.

Lorrah let out a sigh, and his shoulders sagged.

"My daughter, she was stationed there," he finally said. "You might have seen her. They called her Redhair Three?" He looked at me, and when I shook my head, he seemed to shrink even more.

The rest of our walk was silent, only interrupted by the occasional sad sigh from Lorrah. When we reached a road that ended at a three-step, four-meter wide staircase leading up to a double door, I was glad for it. There were banners above the door of two bucklers and two daggers.

The door opened easily with a well-oiled swish and showed a corridor with a guard standing at attention in the middle.

The guard looked at us, his eyes widening momentarily as he took me in. "Lorrah, what brings you back so early. Don't you have the night shift? And who is your friend?"

"He is a survivor from the sacking of Dursic and needs to speak to the Gurossa," Lorrah said, his attention obviously not on the matter.

"Did he have news of your daughter?"

A sharp shake of the head and Lorrah stepped back outside. "Can you take him to where he has to go? I promised him some food and healing…"

"Of course! Go, I'll tell the Gurossa you brought him."

Lorrah nodded gratefully before turning to me. He didn't look me straight in the eye as he muttered. "Glad you are alive, and if you ever make it to Orlion, keep an eye out for my daughter?"

"I will," I said, and Lorrah turned and moved away, closing the door behind him with a soft thud.

"Such a waste," the guard sighed before turning to me, his gaze sharp and the friendly demeanor he had shown with Lorrah gone in a flash.

"Right, follow me. Keep your name to yourself until the Gurossa says you can stay."

He led me deeper into the building, up a flight upstairs, and into a large waiting room. Everything was sparsely decorated, and what decoration there was had to do with war and battle. The most prominent thing I saw was a painting of a massive battle between a small band of Grablons that was besieged by a massive army of elves.

"Wait here," the guard said before disappearing through an intricately carved door. I got a small glimpse of a room with a fireplace, a rug, and a mass of bookcases before the door was shut.

Looking around, I moved in front of the painting. It was the first I'd seen, and the quality was outstanding. It had photographic detail and fervent coloring, deep blacks, and bright reds. The group of Grablons all wore similar armor with a symbol of two crossed javelins on it. From what I had seen so far, I would guess it was some Deity’s symbol, but I had never seen this one. The Grablons all had two bucklers over their lower hands and two javelins in their upper, as they seemed to hold back the onslaught easily. In the distance behind them was a mountainous region with a city sprawling across the foot.

I must have zoned out from hunger, weariness, or the fact I could finally look at something beautiful again.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a sharp and clear voice from beside me. I didn't start and slowly turned. “Made by Halrarassa Threearm, shortly after the death of our forgotten deity.”

A grablon fully clad in armor, leather with plates atop it, stood before me. Her lower arms were bare, save for some buckles with an empty clasp. Looking at her face, I blinked. Although crow lines marred the skin around her eyes, and small wrinkles could be seen around her forehead and face, the woman before me was easily one of the most beautiful I had ever seen. Deep green eyes sparkled with an intelligent light, and a perpetual half-smile sat on her face.

"So, you're the one I've heard rumors about, the follower of that mysterious new Deity. As you probably don't know this, I am the Gurossa of this city."

I froze at the implications of what she said, and the Gurossa nodded. Her fingers on all four hands suddenly moved in a blur, faster than I had thought possible, and before I could act, she had four balls of crackling fire the size of fists aimed at me.

"Yes…you look like one of my people, but you know nothing. Now. Tell me what is going on before I decide to take care of a danger to my people."