Built into the dark slate of the Emberreach Highlands, the frontier town bore the marks of resilience—stone walls reinforced with black iron, homes sunken partially into the hills, and smoke trailing from chimneys like nervous breath. Soldiers patrolled the outer streets, their armor charred from ash winds and patched from skirmishes with beasts displaced by the dragon's presence.
Inigo and Lyra followed Marshal Cedric through the stone-paved main road, passing blacksmiths, bakers, and wary civilians who threw them sidelong glances. Behind them, the JLTV idled near the barracks—still drawing attention from wide-eyed children and old men alike.
"The town holds up better than I expected," Inigo murmured.
Cedric gave a low grunt. "We've had years to prepare. Our ancestors built Ironmark as a fire-hardened settlement. If dragons came, we were told to last until help arrived."
