Everywhere he looked, tall and low stone and wooden houses piled densely upon each other, built along the mountainside. Narrow streets wound like a labyrinth, twisting and turning, with specks of light flickering in the twilight.
The massive castle main tower stood like a crown at the highest point, overlooking the entire city.
The clamor of voices, the bray of beasts of burden, the clanging of the blacksmith shop, and the faint uproar from the taverns, all mingled with the smell of baking bread, poor-quality ale, spices, animal dung, and the complex odors produced by countless people living together. It was like a surging tide, instantly overwhelming the caravan that had just emerged from the austere pass.
Hawke exhaled a long breath, and the tension on his face eased considerably.
He skillfully guided the caravan along a relatively wide main road, heading purposefully toward a certain area of the city.
