The road to Kaairoes smelled of coin and conquest.
It always did. Even from a mile out, a man could taste it - the salt brine from the docks, the fat sweetness of spice markets, and the faint copper tang of money changing hands in ten different tongues. Kaairoes was not a city so much as it was an appetite. A sprawling, golden-throated thing that ate everything the world offered and asked for seconds with a smile.
Even with the many people coming from the other regions, people who were affected by the war, Kaarioes never felt it was like a city burdened by conflict. Instead, it thrived on the chaos, growing stronger and more vibrant with each passing day. The streets buzzed with a sense of opportunity and possibility, drawing in all who sought to make their mark on the world.
There were plenty of resources and food for the people who came.
Lord Beltar Miraqen loved his city. He loved every crooked cobble of it.
