Before arriving at Vraka, where the members of the Gamers Guild were hanging out, Arlon visited somewhere else.
Istarra.
The starting town he hadn't seen for a long, long time.
Unfortunately, it was also one of the few front lines that had fallen.
Lost to the Keldars.
When Arlon arrived, the sight that greeted him was painfully familiar.
Ruins.
Just like in his past life.
Istarra lay broken, its streets crawling with unintelligent Keldars, roaming aimlessly through the shattered remains of buildings and market stalls.
His heart ached—not because he had a deep attachment to the place, but because once upon a time, he had thought about buying a house here.
Just a simple place to settle in, maybe after things had calmed down. Well, that meant some kind of attachment.
He remembered the trio—Lodi, Sar, and Vers—the ones he'd gone to the festival with.
Yuma. Situ. Charon. Shirl.
They weren't dead.
At least, not as far as he knew.
