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The avenue continues to a square where stands a massive horseshoe-shaped arch, crafted from dull blue metal which is engraved with runes and evil insignia. A score of battle-weary Giaks, some Drakkarim, and a Gourgaz are resting nearby. No guards have been posted around their makeshift camp and your arrival here goes unnoticed.
Beyond them, in the middle distance, you see the base of the great citadel. It is a truly awesome sight, a pyramid of jet-black stone which rises to a needle-sharp peak more than ten thousand feet above the streets of the city.
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Soon a rickety wooden cart, drawn by two ugly, ox-like creatures in harness, trundles into the square. It halts and its Giak driver pulls back the tarpaulin which is covering its cargo, revealing haunches of grey-green meat stacked in a pile. Unceremoniously, the driver tosses them to the soldiers who devour them with obvious relish. It is an unwholesome sight, made even more so when you realize that what they are eating is freshly slaughtered Giak meat.
