[b]Chapter One: The Arrival[/b]

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Haralock, a grand shelter for those brave enough to journey through the mystical gateways, anyone who has been shunned by the overruling Kingdom of Zorelle, or lost travelers, looking to stay the night somewhere that isn't an abandoned cave or a bloodthirsty village.

The structure's outer walls shook lightly, as its large wooden gates opened inward to allow a carriage to enter.
The carriage seemed rickety and old, the body was made of old dark oak planks, with bits of rusty silver here and there, supposedly keeping it from falling apart. Its horse was mutated, almost half the size of the carriage it pulled, with a coat of midnight and terrifying beady grey eyes. Its mane was put in a messy braid by its handler, dragging across the dirt road as the horse slowly pulled its load. If one thought the horse was scary, they shouldn't lay an eye on the driver. It had the appearance like that of what some imagine as a wispy spirit, a body made of some kind of smoke-like substance, with round white orbs in place of its eyes, and no mouth. Dressed in oddly well-kept rags, and large black boots, splotched with mud.

The carriage slowly came to a stop in the road. The driver hopped down from his seat and opened the carriage door, allowing the passengers to step out.

A few passersby stuck around to see who they'd most likely be living with now.