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The town of Bresheron lies about a day's travel northward from the city of Comorrus. Its street is always busy in the morning, with locals and merchants going about their daily lives. The sound of chatter echoes through the alleys, the scent of freshly baked bread fills the air, and merchants shout to attract customer’s attention as if their lives depend on it. In the background, Mount Comorrus stands tall, watching over all the liveliness happening over the Western Carad region. Visitors of all shapes come from all over the place to the town of Bresheron. Humans dominate most of the population, but every now and then dwarves and veskars can be seen amidst the crowd, coexisting peacefully with other races. Aluash nomads set up their encampments on the outskirts of the town while tinkering with their creation. A few soldiers in leather armor patrol the streets, marching at a steady pace, preventing unwanted scenes from happening in the market. A young veskar navigates the crowded street, carrying a large leather pouch full of strange trinkets. His long rabbitlike ear shifted around, trying to listen to a good deal as he walked past the merchants. After a while, he stopped in front of a stall full of rocks and mining tools. The cold morning breeze stroked his gray fur as he picked up a lump of rock from the table to inspect them. Recognizing a potential customer, a male dwarf stood up from his small wooden stool and took off his pipe. “Got something you liked, lad? Its a high-quality graunite I got from a friend at Comorrus,” the dwarf said enthusiastically. The veskar smiled as a polite gesture and continued to inspect the rock. Not long afterward, he sighed a little and put down the rock. Seeing this, the vendor frowned a bit and stepped a bit closer, trying to figure out what might be the issue. “What’s the problem, boy? This might be one of the most rhun-dense graunites you will ever see. Made into a pendant, you could cast spells all day with it.” The dwarf tried to convince the veskar to buy his goods. “I’m looking for a thermal graunite. Do you have any of that?” the boy said. Hearing this, the dwarf furrowed his brow. He rummages through a crate filled with various rocks of different colors and picks up a piece of small rock and hands it over to his customer. “Buying for a friend?” The dwarf asked. “Not really. How much is this one? Is this all you got?” The Veskar replied with another question. “Three Dranemir a piece. I think I got about five somewhere in the box.” With his rugged hand, he moved around the rocks in the box and took out several pieces to place on top of the table. “It’s not often that a Veskar comes looking for this kind of merchandise. These stones don’t have much use once you learn some basic fire spells. You might save some coins if you put some effort into learning them. There’s a scribe stall at the end of the road; I could introduce you for a good deal. What do you think?” “No thanks. Spellbook won’t do much for me. I’m afraid this is my only option. At least for the time being.” A frown tried to form on his lips, but the young Veskar held back. The dark-reddish stones are wrapped in a sheet of fabric and handed over to the young Veskar in exchange for a handful of silver Dranemir coins. With the transaction done, the two separate ways, and the young Veskar continues his trip down the alley. At the end of the alley, the bunny-eared boy came to a halt in front of a dimly lit shop with the words "Voracite Craftworks" written above the door. Right in front of the shop, there’s a small stall selling drinks in glass bottles. “A bit late today, Vora?” A young man greeted the Veskar as he poured a batch of freshly mixed drinks into bottles. Vora smiled and took out a ring of keys, unlocked the door, and entered the shop. The smell of metal and oil fills the air. The familiar scent relaxed Vora as he entered his small haven where he could lose himself in Voltek craft. The shop is full of various tools and trinkets made of metal and glass, showcased neatly for sale with little price tags on them. Vora walked behind a counter and took out the trinkets he brought with him and began attaching price tags to them. Once he’s done, he unpacks the new batch of thermal graunite he just bought into a wooden box in the corner with a label “8 Dranemir per piece.”. As Vora is cleaning the glass window overlooking the streets, he sees an entourage following a glamorous man passing through the street. It was Lord Varlok Bresian who could be considered the owner of the town of Bresheron. The noble is dressed in a fine maroon uniform with steel plates covering his chest and arm, making sure he is ready for light combat if needed. Steadily marching through the market street, his hand protected in leather gloves, resting on top of an opulent sword hilt hung on his belt. As he walked by, his bodyguards appeared to be busy ensuring that no commoner got too close, while the Lord was seen conversing with vendors and checking on the situation for the day. However merry it might seem, frowns and displeased looks can be seen amongst the vendor as the convoy passed through. When the Lord finally disappeared from sight, people started chattering, but everyone could see that they were not content with how the Lord ran the market district. Vora doesn’t mind the situation too much; he finished cleaning up the window and flips the open sign of his store, beginning another day of business as usual.
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