The hallmark of a new Alliance; a safe place for the men of words to meet.
A fey kingdom fallen, with winter triumphant. A dream frozen, to be thawed by might and heroic deed.
No walls as far as the eye can see, no gate nor fence, only the mists and wind roam free over the open lands of Kevvar.
When society keeps getting more cosmopolitan, cities of mixed racial makeup start to appear. Neighborhoods dedicated to specific races will occur.
The place where the Sun-Lord Tacontar first spoke to his flock, and centre of his religion, heart and soul of a nation.
Concealed in a fold of space, there, watching, lies, a haven - refuge for a select few, as well as the most precious thing in the world.
The two cathedrals in the Citadel stubbornly ring their bells two minutes apart, since each believes the other to be too early or too late respectively. This has been done for over two hundred years.