Freemonte pulled the fabric at the bottom of his cowl up over his nose. During his self-imposed exile and seclusion, he had forgotten many things about Aberddu City, including how it ruthlessly assaulted the senses of visitors with a vast array of harsh and unpleasant experiences. The smell was quite unlike anything else Freemonte had experienced anywhere, even in the Pit – the demon plane. In actuality, it wasn"t a single smell, it was a cacophony of odious aromas that marauded together like a horde of brutal olfactory goblins. It was hard to describe what it smelled like, apart from offensive, but even through the material of his cowl Freemonte could detect rotting fish guts from the docks, effluent and three different kinds of incense.
As he crossed the Brightling Bridge and turned on
