It is the Twelfth hour by the Light on Cointaking, the 30th day of Lightfading in the year 627. It is a cool late morning. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. Puffy white clouds fill most of the sky. As if the Northreach hub isn't busy enough already on this dreary day, another pair of horses come clip-clopping in with a carriage in tow. So accustomed to their routine are they that the hardy beasts head into the line of new arrivals with little to no outside assistance, heavy hooves coming to a halt alongside the cobblestone curb.