Arrak
Arredor sits on terraced hills where dwarf-built walls braid with fields, cottages huddle around a central granary and watchtower, and stone wards ring the pastures to slow hill giant raids; markets hum on market days and the town smells of fresh bread, smoke, and turned earth, with a practical cheer that keeps fields and spirits tended.
Arrak
Granary of the ridge, where dwarves till stone and spar with giants.
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