The allure of the miraculous White Elixir has infused new life and wealth into formerly stagnant Grieve. Thirty thousand souls, mostly artisans, merchants and laborers, dwell within the Northern port’s walls. The city’s famous tame lynxes strut proudly in yards and gardens, warding off vermin and trespassers alike; their feral cousins prowl the city’s back alleys. Legend says that if the cats ever leave, Grieve will fall.
Grievian savants first revealed the White Elixir just a few years ago. It is purported to grant a macabre sort of immortality, preserving body and soul in the instant of death.
Grieve’s richest citizens who have procured the Elixir are recognizable by their unusual pallor and the parasols they employ to ward off the sun. Foreigners arrive in increasing numbers to purchase immortality, trade in the Elixir’s reagents, or seek wealth in the city’s booming economy.
As a gift, the savants presented the Elixir to Grieve’s queen, Shield Glory. Gossips whisper that the palace lynxes now hiss when she passes, and that she’s responsible for the recent deaths and disappearances among her kin.