[Malkaer Andares]

Timestamp: Late Ioannes, Summer of Era XIV PF

It was unbearably hot in the final apex of the Aelyrian summer this era. People were carrying themselves with languid moves, their clothes wet of their own sweat. The warmth of the suns itself was not really the problem, but the moisture of the air made living in Taralon at this time of the pattern a formidable task. Even Malkaer, who tried not to let the climate have any effect on his schedule or routines, had decided to forgo riding out this brightening, instead choosing the relative comfort of moving about the city in the Thanal coach. Work in Taralon had stalled to a slow trudge, except maybe in the Rage Forge, where the Thane was heading with his entourage.

A cycle after the master smith visited his offices had passed and Malkaer was curious how his order was proceeding. The Thane stepped inside after his bodyguard. The natural heat of the forge was not so bad now that the entire bloody city had turned into one.