You've heard of the famous cities and towns in Fiore.
It's hard not to when some of them are home to wizards guilds, like Fairy Tail in Magnolia or Lamia Scale in Hargeon. However, this kingdom is full of lesser known villages and settlements, some on their way to becoming prosperous, others quickly becoming ghost towns. It was easy for places like these to perish, given the right circumstances. Not every part of the country was safe. Still, places like these are often a haven for those shunned by much of society, be it for a life of crime or simple mistake they could never take back. On a dusty stretch of land out near the edges of the cursed lands, one such place could be found. It could barely be called a community, even on its best days. Those who came here were typically only passing through and those that stayed simply couldn't afford to go anywhere else, a sad walk of life indeed. Most of the scum that could afford to live, but stayed to prey on the locals could be found at the local saloon, along with a certain patron that had clearly been drinking too much.
"Whadya mean you don't got no more?" The man asked in a sloppy manner, his one eye barely remaining open. "Look, I'm sorry, but you drank all the damn whisky. All we got left is beer and wine." The bartender responded, clearly approaching the limit of his patience with the black haired drunk. "Aww, bullshit! Yer just tryin' to keep the good stuff for yerself, ain't ya? I ain't drinkin' that other piss." The man would continue to heckle the poor bartender until someone or something interceded.
It's hard not to when some of them are home to wizards guilds, like Fairy Tail in Magnolia or Lamia Scale in Hargeon. However, this kingdom is full of lesser known villages and settlements, some on their way to becoming prosperous, others quickly becoming ghost towns. It was easy for places like these to perish, given the right circumstances. Not every part of the country was safe. Still, places like these are often a haven for those shunned by much of society, be it for a life of crime or simple mistake they could never take back. On a dusty stretch of land out near the edges of the cursed lands, one such place could be found. It could barely be called a community, even on its best days. Those who came here were typically only passing through and those that stayed simply couldn't afford to go anywhere else, a sad walk of life indeed. Most of the scum that could afford to live, but stayed to prey on the locals could be found at the local saloon, along with a certain patron that had clearly been drinking too much.
"Whadya mean you don't got no more?" The man asked in a sloppy manner, his one eye barely remaining open. "Look, I'm sorry, but you drank all the damn whisky. All we got left is beer and wine." The bartender responded, clearly approaching the limit of his patience with the black haired drunk. "Aww, bullshit! Yer just tryin' to keep the good stuff for yerself, ain't ya? I ain't drinkin' that other piss." The man would continue to heckle the poor bartender until someone or something interceded.