The morning sun cast its golden rays upon the bustling streets of Raven City as Michael and Daniel departed from the vibrant Flowing Ale Inn. They became but two figures amidst the lively symphony of activity, the air alive with the fervor of commerce and the clamor of voices.
With Daniel as their guide, they maneuvered through the crowded streets, Michael following with a calm and measured pace. The city's pulse reverberated through their very beings as merchants peddled their wares, and the aroma of freshly baked delicacies filled their nostrils.
As they ventured deeper into the labyrinth of winding alleys, the bustling crowd gradually thinned, giving way to more sparse passersby. A distinct odor invaded Michael's senses, an offensive assault from a nearby stable where horse dung lay in abundance. He crinkled his nose in disdain, momentarily distracted from the liveliness of the scene.
