[b]The Town of Anvil[/b]
The sun had just started to set, painting the clouds and the mountains surrounding the small town, Anvil, in a beautiful redish pink. The town was made up of about 28 wood homes, smoke rising from every chimney where fires burned to keep the chill of the night out. In the center of the town was a two story town hall, where the town's Count lived. Guards in light mail armor patrolled the dirt paths between homes; the symbol of a black Anvil inside a maroon circle covered their chests.

[b]Cowl[/b]
Cowl, Prince of Assail, stood on a bridge which loomed over the lone river cutting through Anvil. His title was hidden to all that knew him. In fact, no one within a thousand leagues would even recognize him. He wore a brown jerkin made up of dragon leather - a material that only the most rich could afford but which did not stand out, and mithril mail. On his shoulders were mithril armor pads. Mirthril pads also covered his elbows and shins. A bastard sword, something between a longsword and shortsword, sat in a scabbard strung across his back. The mithril pads looked like normal steel, accept lighter and stronger. His sword was made of Assali steel, which was known to never break. His gear was probably worth the entire town, but it needed to be strong for his destiny would lead to the darkest places.

The prince sighed. He was leaning over the bridge's railing, watching the various fish in the river jump. He was in the town for rest during his journey. One which he had made alone thus far.