Author's note:

This is a lot more serious in tone than my other Daric stories. Much like his encounter with the Magician, I tried to shy away from writing about good guys and bad guys, and simply try and put normal people in impossible situations. It was an interesting experience writing Daric as an everyman while keeping his key character traits intact, and a lot more ambitious than any of his other appearances.

 

 

 

It was called Kalach. Some admiring souls had another name for it: the City of Dreams. In actual fact, Kalach was so much better than that. It was a dream made reality. It had been built in Eastern Europe as a joint effort between Men and Dwarves, the former's ambitious vision fantastically realised by the latter's architectural ingenuity. Sloping, elegant structures shone in the sun, the light refracting and bouncing off the previous metals. Doors slid open with barely a noise, and rounded windows were carved delicately into the walls. The sunlight pervaded everywhere - every street, every alley, every house. In the day, the city lit up like a beacon, the streets milling with denizens of all species and colours: Men, Elves, Dwarves and Orcs among them. Even a few Goblins could be seen, furtively selling their wares on the busy markets under the shade of the thin spires. At night, the bars and restaurants would open, and the stars and moonlight would hang in the sky, drifting past the occasional light cloud, and mesmerizing the patrons. It would rain one week a month - Kalach's Magician resided in his tower, working weather magic so, save for that one week, the city never saw a storm. 

Kalach had no rulers. It had no government. The population policed themselves. Crime was rare, but swiftly and fairly dealt with. Supplies were abundant from the self-generated economy. Only one creature had any sort of power over Kalach; the Traveller.

 

No one knew how old the Traveller was, or how it came into being. There was nothing else like it on planet Earth. It had been found over a century ago, deep underground somewhere in the Eastern Alps - a prominent Dwarven tunnelling company had been carving a new subterranean passage through the area when they made their discovery. A combined effort by Italian, Swiss and Austrian governments took almost five years to free it, but it still would not fly. After months of attempted communication by Dwarves and Men, they finally realised. The Traveller would not go alone.