Night fell upon the town of Goldhall, the red suns rays giving in to the progressive advance of the dusk skies and finally retreating behind the snow capped mountains, leaving the world to its lightless fate. Faint beads of light, flickering and dancing in the faint breeze that swept through the vacant streets of the Town, sprang up in a variety of places across the town. On the rooftops of winter chilled log cabins little braziers filled with small black fragments of coal glowed red and gold, creating miniature images of lava pools in the night sky. On the Towns rot timbered walls and crumbed stone towers that circled the town little flickering torches passed from heavy-eyed guard to heavy-eyed guard, spreading its dying flame to more braziers set along the aged Stockade. All over the town the sporadic lights of the inhabitant’s defence against the creeping darkness were raised in quick response to the falling gloom of the night, the defiant light of the braziers illuminating the town with their warm golden glow. At the centre of Town lay the unfinished remains of a great stone construction, cast in a shadowy light by the flickering glow of burning torches. This building stood apart from the rest of Goldhall’s dark logged architecture even in the dark, with bleach bone walls laid out in a spherical fashion defining the borders of the edifice and one great tower semi-complete at it centre. The roof was incomplete, with the tips of the surrounding walls tipped with slate tiles that built towards the centre in a rising circular manner, until a certain point  in the assembly where it seemed to cease its advance toward the white stone creation at the centre. No torches were laid upon its walls, although the flickering light of the existing radiance danced upon its surface, and no guard walked its abandoned halls, though they all seemed to watch it from their unwanted posts with wary, mistrustful stares.

Goldhall was just one of the many satellite towns scattered all over the rich farmland areas of the great nation of Anogg. It stood on an advantageous position on a hillside overlooking the great forests of Hakewood to the east, and the great expanses of the Sundu Ocean to the west.  Such positioning logically meant that Goldhall should be a place of great wealth and splendour, with the riches of the sea coupled with the expensive timber of the forests making great profits for the town. This however was not the case for Goldhall. The sea was as bare and lifeless as a desert for the fishermen of the town, who slaved away for days upon days to claim just a little more than they could afford to feed their families with. As for the forests, no dry timber was easily found and felled as the perpetual rainstorm that plagued that part of the world kept the wood damp and rotted before it could be put to use. In fact Goldhall, which had been named by a man perhaps too optimistic for his own good, was slowly but surely dying.  Its people, especially the young had long given in to the idea that Goldhall was a finished town, with nothing left there but a long and unrewarding life of fruitless labour and a short unremembered death; and so had begun to leave the town in search of their own fortunes in the great cities and wealthy far off lands. What few people that remained did so out of nostalgic memory of the times when Goldhall had been great.