A large town nestled within the Voldaen hills, The smell of spice, smoke, and freshly worked iron hangs thick in the air right outside of the town of Hartholm spreads out below. Once a simple crossroads settlement, it has grown into a bustling trade hub, its streets alive with the sounds of merchants hawking wares and wagons creaking under heavy loads of goods.

Colorful market tents and wooden stalls line the main square, their canvas tops painted in the hues of a dozen nations. Traders call out in different tongues, bartering over silks from Jesthaen, ores from Polaris, and fine wines imported from Hilltop. The scent of roasting meat drifts from an open-air tavern nearby, mixing with the metallic tang of coin and the acrid sting of forge smoke.

Children dart between carts, chasing each other with sticks, while mercenaries in mismatched armor watch from shaded corners — some wearing Voldaen insignia, others bearing no mark at all. Guards in crimson tabards patrol the streets, carrying polished halberds more for show than true vigilance.

At the heart of it all rises Harthorn’s Trade Hall, a wide, stone structure crowned with banners bearing the sigil of a golden coin wreathed by two angels.

Event: The Inciting Riot