The transition was gentle, but the cold hit hard the moment they stepped through.
They emerged in Ironhold's lounge. Same polished wood and comfortable seats, but the attendant here was a dwarf. Broad shoulders, beard braided tight with iron rings. He gave Iori a small nod of recognition and went back to his ledger.
Leo stepped outside and his breath misted instantly. The mountain air cut straight through his clothes. He folded his arms across his chest without thinking.
Stone ruled everything here. Gray buildings carved straight into the mountainside. Steep streets climbed in layers, one terrace stacked over the next. Narrow bridges crossed deep gorges, their railings lit by flickering lanterns.
"Welcome to Ironhold," Iori said. "Hallmark of history."
