23
AGOR OF LOLAR
Owailion sat on a stool he conjured out in the marshes at Lolar and considered his situation. Off to his right, Raimi's palace stood tall, glittering, abandoned, and stark against the blue spring sky, surrounded by the waters of the Laranian River. The village of Lolar rested on the far shore from it. The town eked out a living in guiding ships through the ever-changing passages, or they worked with fish, but nothing was going to bring this place to its potential. Owailion remembered this land before settlers came, with a deep verdant valley lined with trees and waterfalls casting mist into the air. Now Raimi was gone and the huge marble walls he had finally built for her only looked like a gravestone over the marsh that had formed at her death. It was Raimi’s graveyard,
