Vel Anir Kolvar Vayra He hated this city. Even more than Elbion, even more than Allira. This city, Vel Anir was the worst of them all. It was here that the nobles stepped on the lower classes. Where a prince could kill a peasant and find no charges pressed against them. In Vel Anir money meant nothing, no, it was nobility. The blood in your veins. There was only one way to move up in this city, and it was through the use of a blade...or the kindness of those who knew none. Lips thinned as he watched the street outside the inn, skulking by the Window as a Dreadlord, one of Vel Anir's mages, walked by with a retinue of a dozen soldiers. He hated this city, so why was he here? Trade of course. No matter how much he disliked this place, there was money to be made. Vel Anir was known for it's forging, some of the best weapons in the world...made by Human hands anyway. Kellen had a contact here, a man who stole a whole stock of weapons from one of the local armories. Now he just had to wait for the greedy bastard to arrive.