The trees lining the road changed from familiar oaks and pines to towering, ancient monoliths with sprawling roots and thick vines draped with moss.
They were approaching the border of the Verdant Reach.
The convoy halted at the very edge of the jungle territory, in a transit city known as the Verdant Gate.
It was a chaotic, lawless melting pot of a city.
Because it sat directly on the border between the Imperial plains and the deep, toxic jungles of the Sylvane territory, it was a haven for mercenaries, exotic beast traders, alchemists seeking rare herbs, and merchants selling antidotes to naïve travelers.
The market here was not the cheerful, lantern-lit affair of Oakhaven.
It was dense, loud, and smelled heavily of crushing humidity, roasting exotic meats, and the sharp, acrid tang of potent alchemical ingredients.
Inside the carriage, the situation had reached a critical mass.
