Avanim

The City as Old as the Gods

The smell of clay wafts through the ever-expanding city of gods, goddesses, and patrons. The tall walls are punctured by doors in pairs: a true gate for humans and a smaller gate for liminal deities that protect the city. There is no paint nor frivolities in this utilitarian place, for age has stripped away any paint that was once here. The streets are filled with the rapacious prayers of zealous priests. Haze always shrouds the skyline as thousands of sticks and censers burn incense.