Having arrived in Svartrau, the capital of Vale Sangora, I gazed at its imposing cathedral and the mighty Greifberg castle, looming on the crags up above. They seemed out of place here, at the edge of the world, miles away from the nearest town. Why would anyone settle here?
The answer was simple: silver. The surrounding mountains were rich with it, and its cold gleam lured men like moths to a fire. The rocky slopes were pockmarked with mine entrances, and the steady tapping of pickaxes echoed through the valley all day long, like a prisoner's rapping on the walls of his cell…
