Night had fallen in Caergoth, leaving the sole highway out of the city in darkness. A thin rain fell, its threads hissing and sputtering in the flames of the torches bracketing the city gate. The wings of the gate stood open, as always: only during a siege would the gate proper be closed, as a defensive measure. Otherwise, the entrance was barred at night with a heavy, reinforced grate lowered from above, with a small door to allow the city guard ingress and egress if needed.<br/>Above the city, on a cliff overlooking both the harbor and the town, towered the duchal castle, its black walls forming a hole against the overcast sky. Viewn from the highway, its central tower, with two lower guard towers on each side on the outer wall, looked suspiciously like it was designed to send a message to an attacking force - that message being "fuck you."<br/>Out to the right, the city wall extended to the shore, there giving way to the harbor fortifications. Between these and the Duchal fleet, Caergoth was one of the safest ports in this part of Solamnia, although the harbor fees were astronomical; as a result, many mariners preferred other harbors and transporting the goods to Caergoth via caravan for the last hundred miles or so.<br/>To the left, the lights of a large building shone into the night. This was the terminus of the local caravan routes, an inn designed to house hundreds of wagoneers, merchants, mercenaries and other businesspeople at the same time. Its origins dated back to a better day and age, and like most of the other fortified buildings of Caergoth, it had already been here when the Cataclysm struck, destroying Istar and sending shock waves all across Ansalon. The inn rested squarely between the highway leading to Solanthus and Lemish, circling the Garnet Mountains north and passing by the south edge of the Vingaard Mountains, and a far less active road circling the Garnet Mountains to the south and and slowly vanishing near the Darkwoods.<br/>Inside the inn, the common room was sparsely populated for its size - but given the state of the land lately, still busy. A small group of mercenaries led by a giant of a man occupied two tables in the far corner, occupied with food, ale and a hearty discussion. Closer to the entrance, a group of wagoneers, a single merchant and a handful of men-at-arms occupied another three tables, similarly busy. Beyond those two groups, other patrons were scattered around the room, engaged in their business.