Tirie Town wasn't what I'd call bustling—not like Everhart Town, at least. There was movement, sure. People wandered the streets, shops were open, and trade was happening.
But something about it all felt… muted. Like a town living in its own shadow. The people weren't necessarily unfriendly, just not expressive. As if every smile came with a cost they couldn't afford.
Most of the shops lining the streets catered to warriors. Weapons gleamed behind reinforced glass, rows of artifacts floated within mana-reinforced cases, and the occasional rack of armor stood proudly outside blacksmith stalls.
Combat-oriented. Everything here screamed survival, not luxury. Food stalls were rare, and utility shops even rarer. It felt like a place built more for soldiers and adventurers than for families.
And the people reflected that reality.
Conversations were short, clipped. No one stood around gossiping. No spontaneous laughter.
