Ashenveil

Ashenveil began as a camp � refugees from Greyvast who crawled out of the mist and stopped walking. They built walls from the rubble of their former homes, roofs from the sails of wrecked fishing boats, and streets from mud packed so hard by constant traffic that it turned to stone. Twenty years later, no one calls it a camp anymore. It is a town, and it has the desperate permanence of a wound that never heals. Three factions breathe down Ashenveil's neck. The Oathbound Remnants walk its streets openly, recruiting from the refugee population with promises of reclaimed glory. The Tide-Weavers keep storefronts in the central square, buying and selling moon fragments with no questions asked. The Pale Dominion's priests arrive at the gates every morning and leave every evening, preaching to crowds that shrink a little more each week. Valdenmoor's patrols stop at the town's official border but go no further � the Ashen Crown tolerates Ashenveil because it cannot afford to govern it. The result is a truce held together by mutual distrust. One wrong death, one stolen fragment, one recruit too many, and the town will tear itself apart. The permanent residents know this. They have built their lives on the fault line, and they accept the risk because nowhere else will have them. The blacksmith forges weapons for the Remnants and tools for the Tide-Weavers in the same fire. The innkeeper takes coin from Pale Dominion priests and Oathbound scouts on the same night. Ashenveil does not survive because it is strong. It survives because every faction needs a place where they can pretend the others do not exist. The day that pretense breaks is the day Ashenveil burns.