"The veins run deep, farther than men should dig. The shafts are dangerous and some even say they are cursed. But still they mine, for the city's lifeblood is tied to it."
The blacksmith's narration continued.
"Without the black iron, Nergrev would be nothing more than another heap of stone in the desert."
His words lingered as I turned back toward the street.
And somewhere within these walls, perhaps beyond them, lay the path I needed to walk.
The path that would lead me to be strong enough to bring me home.
The stone walls of the buildings around Nergrev were doing their best to reflect the sunlight.
My steps carried me through the crowded market district, my eyes scanning for what I hoped I could find in this city, an information center.
I stopped by a stall where a thin man sold roasted nuts in paper cones. His hands were blackened from the ash, his teeth flashing yellow as he grinned at me.
"Are you lost, traveler?" he asked, cocking his head.
