Hadrael

Crystal Scribe Hadrael inspected the wagons of tribute. Various ores, rare woods and magical sands. All specially-requested and to be ferried to Thul, then airshipped to the northern region of Atlantis near Dol Ethra. “70 obsidian marks,” the old toothless merchant said. “Order’s fulfilled. I’ll take my payment now.” “Of course,” Hadrael said. He reached for his satchel. It was light — he might be short — but if he was…...