Moments later, they left the compound and moved through the village. Pulsegrove Village stretched across a vast clearing, nestled between towering cliffs and the endless forest beyond.
Countless crude looking houses were scattered before them, and the ground beneath their feet was earthen and unpaved.
A massive iron effigy of the Iron Father rose at the center of the village. The place felt… empty. They could barely spot any villagers around.
"The Pulsegrove Village has been around for centuries. Our ancestors found this place while fleeing the war with the Pyrians. We lived in peace for a long time… until bandits and wanderers started finding us, drawn by the resources here. Luckily, Calderalth found us before things got out of hand. In exchange for supplying PulseWood and Ink, we received their protection. It's been that way for over a century now.
"It's quite remarkable, really… just the other day, I remembered a tale about a butcher. It goes like this…"
