[center][color=LightSeaGreen][h3]CORINA[/h3][/color][/center]

The City of Zar Vorgul, a massive walled fortress in an otherwise empty wasteland. Massive walls, some of the largest in the world, towered two hundred feet into the air and boasted nearly a hundred feet of solid infill in their width. The walls encompassed nearly sixteen square kilometres of houses, wells, shops and of course the mages tower in the centre. For generations it had stood against the Salished Empire, a bastion of Drathan Power that could strike into the Salish homeland if left unwatched.

The sheer size of the walls prevented the sun from even reaching the cobblestoned streets until mid-morning. As the sunshine spread slowly through the city it touched on the narrow streets sheltered from the heat by multi-coloured awnings that made the city appear as though rainbows flowed between the rooftops. Those same rooftops were rich in colour themselves as laundry was set to dry, the many colours of the desert peoples flapping in the hot breeze that occasionally made its way into the depths of the city.

That wind, so harsh, barely stirred at street level. Indeed the whole city seemed to hold a stale breath unless all four of the great gates were open, allowing a cleansing breeze to curl through the city. Today was one of those days and streets filled with residents who basked in the fresh air that at last touched their faces. Many suspected it might be a rare occurrence in the coming days if rumours of the Salished invasion were true.

Among those filling the streets was a pretty dark haired woman, her orange turban and veil no different than any of the other hundreds of others. She moved through the crowd with an effortless ease, almost like a cat on a fireplace mantel between jars of spice and the urns holding deceased ancestors.

Corina stepped carefully around a clay jar that held a families daily waste. Each day the pots were placed outside and carts would come around, replace the jar and take the full ones to a mixing vat where the waste would be turned into fertilizer for vegetable plots that were scattered about the city. 

Other carts, guarded by slave soldiers, would follow behind with large tanks of water on their back. The water, drawn from cisterns deep beneath the desert, was rationed out daily. So much per adult, so much per child. It was always a generous amount, for the cisterns of Zar Vorgul were deep and cool, fed perhaps by an underground river or aquifer. It had been discovered many years before by the same Mage who had built the city. 

For Corina this was a city whose streets she had walked many times before. Long ago she had learned the art of sailing on the desert in the small skiffs prized by the tribes beyond the walls and she moved far faster than any horse or army could ever hope to match. Still, here in this oppressive heat, she always missed the cool misty air of Zar Zirak and its massive waterfalls.

Ahead of her, it's great dome towering above even the walls, as the Mage tower. It was there, within its depths that her target lived and worked. Not the great Mage himself, for that she would need a small party of Assassins. Her target was a woman who worked in the archives, a woman who knew the secret passages beneath the city. She was to die, but only after Corina had learned her secrets.

Corina licked her lips and smiled slightly. She loved a challenge.