Cathalan, the Royal Capital, was located eleven days of horse carriage travel north of Lyra city.
Baron Harlan Voss set foot there on a morning of drizzling rain. His body was covered in mud, and the expensive burgundy velvet coat had now turned a dingy color.
Looking down from horseback, he saw a sea of gray tiled roofs stretching endlessly, every house three or four stories high, with chimneys springing up densely like a forest. The people walking around were so crowded they bumped shoulders, and horse carriages trailed each other jammed tightly at the intersections. A group of porters walked while cursing at each other using a local slang that he could not understand a single word of.
