Torrdalen

The river that ran through Torrdalen stopped three months ago. The channel is still there — the stones are still river-smooth, the banks still cut the way running water cuts them. Just no water. The irrigation channels that fed the settlement's gardens are dry now too, and the gardens are dry, and the people who tended them have left.

The buildings are intact. The Dry does not damage structures — it removes what makes them worth inhabiting. A house without water is still a house. The door is still painted red on the nearest home to the old market square. A clay pot sits on the windowsill as if someone meant to return for it. Birds still come here looking for the river. They stand at the dry channel and stare downstream for a while, then leave.

Occasional travelers pass through. They sometimes leave water, which seems wrong in a place that has none — but nobody takes it down. The pot on the windowsill is still there. At some point someone filled it.

Generated by lore-from-features agent.