Rackenshore, a modest city perched on the edge of the Empire of Arcanis, hummed with a newfound energy.
Nestled against the backdrop of jagged mountains, the city had long been a place of tension, its people bearing the brunt of the Empire's ambitions. But today, the streets were transformed.
The war had finally ended, and Rackenshore was free to celebrate.
Bright banners of crimson and gold, the colors of the Empire, fluttered from every rooftop and balcony, catching the soft summer breeze that carried the scent of roasting meats and fresh-baked bread.
The central square, usually a place of hurried transactions and wary glances, had become the heart of the festival. Stalls lined the cobblestone paths, their owners shouting to passersby, offering everything from spiced wine to intricate trinkets.
