Chapter 2: Out of the Frying Pan

The frog-people sail away, their boat moving back toward Meriava. The Shining City can still be seen across the lake, though suddenly, now that you all find yourselves truly alone for the first time, you realize how it might as well be on the moon for all intents and purposes. The sun is growing lower on the horizon, and you estimate you have a couple of hours before sunset.

Here at the docks, you're greeted by an open square. There are signs that this might once have been a town market. One of the burned out buildings has a weathered signboard barely hanging by a single hook next to the doorway. You can just make out the faded paint: The Cracked Mug. The shattered remains of a couple of tables and a few chairs sit in front of the building. Other nearby buildings' past lives are less certain without further investigation. Produce carts and other market stalls -- all apparently destroyed by something, and relatively recently by the looks of things -- are strewn about the tiny square.

You can hear the distant calls of birds, a gull screeching overhead, the whisper of a faint breeze, but no sounds of humanoid activity.