The morning marketplace of Bloodstone overflowed with a vibrant and pervasive energy that defined the valley. Merchants called out cheerfully to passing customers, while baskets of fresh vegetables, fragrant herbs, and warm bread lined the sturdy wooden stalls. Children darted between the throngs of people carrying letters for the seasonal exchange, and travelers paused to admire the lively spirit that had become the hallmark of the region.
To most casual visitors, Bloodstone appeared to exist in a state of perfect, unshakeable harmony. To one man, however, the settlement felt unfinished, like a puzzle missing its vital center piece. This man wandered through the bustling market, stopping occasionally to examine handcrafted pottery or sample the dried fruit. His smile remained pleasant, and the questions he posed to the vendors seemed entirely harmless.
