Æthelwulf never liked the cities of the South. The smoke that billowed from the factories choked the air he breathed. It was burdening his lungs and sending him into coughing fits. During the day, soot-faced laborers worked endlessly on the streets. Builders were constantly moving construction materials through the crowds, with a handful of scientists trying to peddle their strange concoctions. For a foreigner, it could be very difficult to move through the streets quickly. When evening fell, Wulf managed to find the Camilla Inn. From the outside it looked rather cold, cheerless and dark, but Wulf decided he'd rather not sleep on the streets. It was hard to see through the small, fading stained glass windows, but he could still feel the depressing vibes from within.


Wulf hesitantly creaked open the splintering wooden door and slowly stepped inside. Only a handful of people seemed to be boarding at the inn tonight. The barkeep appeared rather cheery and bright in stark contrast to her tavern's bleak atmosphere. Wulf motions to the bartender with a small bag of coin in his hand, hopefully enough to rent him a room for the night.

"