A series of unnervingly clear ripping sounds emanated from it, and at the final moment of collapse, began to crumble from the mountainside, spreading out in all directions.
Duke Wolfsbane had a great view; he could clearly see some desperate dwarves leaping from the crumbling city walls amidst the violent tremors.
"There are nearly two million Brass Dwarves in this city..."
Old Edward snorted, saying rather coldly:
"Now they're done for."
"No, the God of Wealth is protecting them. Every coin and piece of wealth used here brings a thread of protective power; the casualties aren't as great as you think. After today's disaster, the Brass Dwarves can still survive.
But they will likely have to reassess their position on the Continent."
Lord Paryen looked up.
Under the Helm of Gryphon, his eyes locked onto something in the sky, pulling the reins of Aurora, letting the Flying Feather Unicorn carry him into the sky.
