The late summer has slipped into autumn with a final, sultry gasp. Cooler breezes now whisper through the streets; through the trees - though a sort of easy feeling has remained. It's like some oppressive cloud has dissipated. Like a drop in sweltering humidity, or the moment of relief when your ears finally pop as you descend into a valley, it is palpable but hard to pin down. There's talk, here and there, of what a blessing it is 'those poor children' were recovered. Had they been lost in the catacombs beneath the city? Or kidnapped? It was something like that.
Half-recovered memories seem to be on the minds of many of Arx's citizens, these past weeks. Loved ones lost, snippets of family stories, and rumors of magic seem to be popping up in taverns and over tea; conversations traded with increasing boldness as people go about their daily work.
It's hard to say what's changed, but it sure feels like SOMETHING has.