The Drowned Moon

Busy Marketplace

"Get on with it, we have to keep moving!", a middle aged dwarf with an impressive orange beard yelled to behind him, continuing to move through busy streets and even busier people. "We're trying, can't you see? Just give us a moment you hasty midget" swiftly replied a human in black and brown leather with a large bow on his back and the promise of a moustache, pushing aside another person whilst trying to keep the loudness of his breathing to himself. The three characters behind him, a blood-red tiefling in plate armour, a wood elf hunter, tattooed from face to feet, and a dusty looking hobo in a cowl were doing the same, with more or less grace, sometimes mumbling apologies to pushaways, only for them to get lost in the overall sounds, that seemed to be so thick you could easily cut them with a butterknife. A few moments later, they saw it, the king's palace, towering above the marketplace and any of the buildings that marked the borders of this giant plaza, except, of course, the Wizard's tower, situated on the opposite end of the square, rivalling, if not beating the palace in their own contest. That, is also where their eyes turned as they heard a loud surge of magical energy, the bricks of the tower were flying everywhere, away from a deep, purple explosion, that was still lit, at around the third of the tower's height "We need to move NOW" the dwarf hurried the rest once again, this time with the strength of an army commander's voice, which he, and his friend right behind him, knew all too well.