Vhalar 66, 718
The sun was rising over Yaralon. There had been no rain this day, but there were many clouds in the sky. The light was streaming through in pockets, highlighting small sections of the massive city of mercenaries. The Yari often congregated around such areas, looking to the skies smiling, awaiting their return, signaling the return to clear nights and good hunting. For while Yaralon is blessed with heavy rains, they do tend to tire of them at the end of the Wet Season.
One such pocket of sunshine fell upon the center of the now defunct Mud Burho. The former neighborhood was notorious for becoming nearly unlivable during the rainy season, though did seem to attract many potters and other clay workers. But this last rainy season had flooded it so much that everyone moved out, abandoning the homes to the elements.
As so many have, another Burho had fallen. It was not uncommon, though the Mud Burho was the largest to date for it to occur. Some still believed they'd be able to return to it once the dry season took hold, but many wrote it off, some even stating that it must be cursed.
But on this day, the Mud Burho, near the center of Yaralon, was receiving much unexpected attention. Every plant in the city, whether potted or in the ground proper could be seen leaning toward the Mud Burho, and the sunlight above it. Every forest based animal, be it a tamed pet or work animal or simply had the luck of being in the city could feel a draw toward the Mud Burho, and would insist on making the trek there to the best of their ability. Finally, every Tunawa, Sev'ryn, and those marked by Moseke could feel the call to venture there as well, an insistent nagging, a constant tug. Not one of malevolence but rather, one of calm, satisfied pleasure.
For those that arrived at the edges of the Mud Burho, they would find a massive swamp of sticky, deep mud, deeper than most men stood tall, surrounded by a moat of brown water. Houses were mostly submerged, a few grass roofs visible. Tunawa, Sev'ryn, and animals of all sort were standing around all the edges of the Burho, staring in at the spot of sunlight. The tug could be felt, but the stigma of this Burho weighed on many, and none dared attempt to venture through the mud, muck, and water to break the taboo.
Especially with knowledge of what also lived in that mud.