The royal capital.
Kagash.
As he walked through the city, Aaron looked around curiously.
Even the capital of a kingdom was no exception to the disorderly streets, where piles of garbage and cow and horse dung gave off a foul stench.
The streets were bustling, crowded with bare-chested laborers and peddlers pushing carts, hawking fruits and vegetables.
Along the roadside, vendors in greasy aprons sold all kinds of grilled food and snacks.
Small-time merchants walked the streets hawking ointments and all sorts of potions of dubious origin.
Nearby, a wooden fence enclosed a group of people strung together with hemp ropes. Outside, slave traders loudly advertised their wares or haggled with customers.
Now and then, a few heavily made-up women passed by. They were all prostitutes from the taverns and nearby inns, openly soliciting customers in the street.
Aaron walked down a street and came upon a huge square.
At one corner of the square, two guards maintained order and watched over a massive notice board.
A large crowd had gathered around it.
Aaron pushed his way through and read the notice.
It was quite simple: His Majesty the King wished to recruit a group of people with extraordinary abilities.
Anyone could come forward and offer their services. At the end of the notice, it emphasized that the reward would be extremely generous!
"Listen up! This isn't a recruitment drive for court jesters. Don't think you'll earn a reward just by showing off a few magic tricks or sleights of hand!"
"This time, the King needs genuine 'gifted ones': diviners, astrologers, witches, Druids... We only want people with true mystical powers!"
A soldier rasped out a warning: "If you're a fraud, you'll find out what a barbed whip feels like..."
"What's gotten into the King?"
"Do witches really exist?"