Arriving in Carleon is, fortunately, not terribly eventful. I'd like to think this means that the supply of men willing and able to come hunting for the map in Lucas' head is thinning, but that's wishful thinking.
More likely it's that no one else is ready to tail us here, yet.
The wall surrounding the city of Carleon is three stories tall. It towers over the approaching highwaymen and merchants alike, made from huge blocks of stone.
A sprawling network of watchtowers peppers the upper length of the structure, manned by soldiers.
Carleon's gates are open and the streets inside are lined with people. There's an endless stream of folks passing in and out, walking around, selling things, shouting their wares to potential buyers.
The people are so focused on the parade of commerce in the streets that most barely even look up at the entrance when the horses draw near.
