As David walked at a steady pace toward the town, he took upon himself to look again at the landscape that surrounded him. There were paths that led everywhere, a spiderweb of travel, with merchants and wayward highwaymen caught in its web, but the rolling hills were still very much the majority of the horizon, with mountains in the distance shrouded in part by the distant fogs that covered the next country over. It had been quite a while since David had looked across the land with such a sense of wonder. He took a few deep breaths and slowed a little, and gazed ahead, looking upon the town ahead. When coming upon the gate, he was halted by the watchman, who looked down at David with squinted eyes and lame posture.
“Who goes?” The watchman shouted, still squinting.
“David. David the Slayer,” David said, loud enough that the watchman could hear clearly.
“A slayer? In you go then.”
The gate begin to move, and it screamed on its hinges, making a ruckus that could easily be heard, provided you were within the mile. It staggered at a few points, but eventually opened up widely and seemed to welcome David into the town of Isabelle. He then began to walk through the doors, passing guards who looked at him and nodded, quietly telling him that he was no stranger. As David walked through the paved streets and the odd dirt one, he took note of his surroundings, as he did every time he trekked through the town. Shops were opening for the day, and their early bird customers were bustling about. There were carriages and the occasional alchemy-power motored vehicle cruising through the streets, and the first smokes of the kindled fires erupted from the inhabitants’ chimneys. Isabelle was most definitely alive, and her citizens were active.