| Marc Pelzer | Fabian Wiestner
Exactly as the Duke had wished, they had set out before the first light of day. The departure was marked by nervousness and the cool morning breeze blowing into the faces of Gemon and the ten-man bodyguard. Just an hour earlier, the Duke had intended to ride himself, but he had been persuaded to take the armored coach, which featured both magical protection and hardened wood as armor. Not only did this seem generally safer to Gemon, but most importantly, it would make them more recognizable, as the stag on the Duke's emblem glowed with a slightly bluish light due to a spell. This should reduce the risk of an unfortunate incident. Nevertheless, he felt uneasy about the situation. His stomach was so tied up in knots that he hadn't been able to eat. According to the usual formation, he took his place next to the coachman after inspecting every fiber of the light wood of the coach for flaws once more. After recent events, he couldn't afford any missteps. The coach was safe. The sword was securely fastened to his belt. The horses were already restless with anticipation. He gave the signal to depart, and the cool wind whipped against his face.
They quickly left the Duke's territories and traveled on the Western Road through the remote parts of the land. As the weather was cloudy, almost misty, and people were resting from the exertions of the past week, they encountered only a few individuals. These few, however, posed no problem. According to tradition, they bowed as soon as they saw their ruler's coach until it had passed them. Thus, they slowly but surely approached the border. This was especially noticeable in the deteriorating quality of the road. The local nobility had not cared to maintain it. For the Duke, however, it was too far away and had no priority. The road was dotted with small gaps and missing stones, which did not hinder the travel by coach but made it uncomfortable. Just as they had traversed the last forest before the border, the vanguard stopped the group. Gemon jumped down, seeing that they had encountered a border guard. This was easy to recognize because the border guards all wore the same black cloak with a red stag, which protected them from harsh weather and cold, over their variable personal armor. "Greetings! I am the captain of the ducal bodyguard. What news is there from this part of the border?" he greeted him. The border guard was an old man, almost too old for the task, he thought. He had a serious face and deep circles under his eyes. Surely, he had been awake for more than a day. "Turn back, my lord! On the other side, a thousand feet from here, we have spotted troops from Daanre Var. Not scouting parties, but armored warriors!" The further exchange was not particularly exciting but crucial for planning. Gemon inquired about the terrain and the position of the troops. His plan was to approach them directly and not surprise or provoke them.
The Duke wanted to de-escalate at all costs and firmly believed that the Dan Vara would not let him be attacked. So, they mounted again, and the journey continued. The old man had been right. As soon as they left the forest, they saw the vast plain of Daanre Var. The troops were positioned around the road but kept some distance from the border. That was a good sign! And already from a distance, the mighty city with its huge towers, high walls, and shimmering stones was visible. Gemon gathered his courage, and they continued towards the warriors who had now recognized them. The tension for him was excruciating. He turned slightly on the bench to reach his weapon more quickly if necessary. But it wasn't necessary. The leader of the troops quickly and straightforwardly decided after a brief discussion with the Duke that she would accompany him to Daanre Var with three other warriors. Although the majority of their group remained at their post. Remarkably, the roads were much better than in the Duchy. The stones that made up the road were much smaller and more uniform than at home. This made for an astonishingly fast journey, and within five hours, they arrived at the massive, brightly shimmering gate of the city.
It stood wide open. Gemon's nervousness had already subsided somewhat, and his focus on possible dangers to his lord seemed to dissipate practically as soon as they entered the city. It was an incredible bustle of various people on the street. A chaotic movement of warriors in their typical whitish leather armor, craftsmen with their tools and materials, but above all, merchants of all nationalities. The goods on the carts creaked, clinked, and mingled with the loud discussions about prices and services that resounded from every corner of the city. It also smelled of exotic spices, sweat, and dyes. He was so overwhelmed that he almost allowed a figure in a red cloak to get too close to the coach. At the last moment, he gently but firmly pushed her aside with his foot. So, they made their way piece by piece through the crowded streets to the palace.
This was, Gemon had to admit, an impressive and magnificent structure. Although it was not as richly decorated as the Court of Varna, it was built of light stones that reflected the sunlight and shone so wonderfully, almost dazzlingly. Upon arrival, he helped the Duke, who had been diligently looking out the window of the coach as he also did not often travel outside the country, to disembark. The interior of the palace was also characterized by light stone but did not dazzle as much as the exterior. The tension was enormous. Nothing could go wrong here. Otherwise, Gemon was sure he and all his guards would end up in deep, dark dungeons. And that was the best-case scenario. "Gemon, I will face the Dan Vara alone. There are important discussions to be had, and I want you to be rested for the return journey," said the Duke. Then he turned to one of the warriors still standing nearby and beckoned her over. "Ensure that my men receive some food and rest while I speak with your lady. Show them the famous hospitality of your city." The warrior, attentive but silent, listened to the request, nodded in confirmation, and then withdrew, her post near the group immediately being filled by another warrior with brown hair. And although Gemon felt uneasy, he was impressed by the discipline and polite persistence of these warriors. He resolved to bring his own men to a similar level if he had time for training next time.
They quickly left the Duke's territories and traveled on the Western Road through the remote parts of the land. As the weather was cloudy, almost misty, and people were resting from the exertions of the past week, they encountered only a few individuals. These few, however, posed no problem. According to tradition, they bowed as soon as they saw their ruler's coach until it had passed them. Thus, they slowly but surely approached the border. This was especially noticeable in the deteriorating quality of the road. The local nobility had not cared to maintain it. For the Duke, however, it was too far away and had no priority. The road was dotted with small gaps and missing stones, which did not hinder the travel by coach but made it uncomfortable. Just as they had traversed the last forest before the border, the vanguard stopped the group. Gemon jumped down, seeing that they had encountered a border guard. This was easy to recognize because the border guards all wore the same black cloak with a red stag, which protected them from harsh weather and cold, over their variable personal armor. "Greetings! I am the captain of the ducal bodyguard. What news is there from this part of the border?" he greeted him. The border guard was an old man, almost too old for the task, he thought. He had a serious face and deep circles under his eyes. Surely, he had been awake for more than a day. "Turn back, my lord! On the other side, a thousand feet from here, we have spotted troops from Daanre Var. Not scouting parties, but armored warriors!" The further exchange was not particularly exciting but crucial for planning. Gemon inquired about the terrain and the position of the troops. His plan was to approach them directly and not surprise or provoke them.
The Duke wanted to de-escalate at all costs and firmly believed that the Dan Vara would not let him be attacked. So, they mounted again, and the journey continued. The old man had been right. As soon as they left the forest, they saw the vast plain of Daanre Var. The troops were positioned around the road but kept some distance from the border. That was a good sign! And already from a distance, the mighty city with its huge towers, high walls, and shimmering stones was visible. Gemon gathered his courage, and they continued towards the warriors who had now recognized them. The tension for him was excruciating. He turned slightly on the bench to reach his weapon more quickly if necessary. But it wasn't necessary. The leader of the troops quickly and straightforwardly decided after a brief discussion with the Duke that she would accompany him to Daanre Var with three other warriors. Although the majority of their group remained at their post. Remarkably, the roads were much better than in the Duchy. The stones that made up the road were much smaller and more uniform than at home. This made for an astonishingly fast journey, and within five hours, they arrived at the massive, brightly shimmering gate of the city.
It stood wide open. Gemon's nervousness had already subsided somewhat, and his focus on possible dangers to his lord seemed to dissipate practically as soon as they entered the city. It was an incredible bustle of various people on the street. A chaotic movement of warriors in their typical whitish leather armor, craftsmen with their tools and materials, but above all, merchants of all nationalities. The goods on the carts creaked, clinked, and mingled with the loud discussions about prices and services that resounded from every corner of the city. It also smelled of exotic spices, sweat, and dyes. He was so overwhelmed that he almost allowed a figure in a red cloak to get too close to the coach. At the last moment, he gently but firmly pushed her aside with his foot. So, they made their way piece by piece through the crowded streets to the palace.
This was, Gemon had to admit, an impressive and magnificent structure. Although it was not as richly decorated as the Court of Varna, it was built of light stones that reflected the sunlight and shone so wonderfully, almost dazzlingly. Upon arrival, he helped the Duke, who had been diligently looking out the window of the coach as he also did not often travel outside the country, to disembark. The interior of the palace was also characterized by light stone but did not dazzle as much as the exterior. The tension was enormous. Nothing could go wrong here. Otherwise, Gemon was sure he and all his guards would end up in deep, dark dungeons. And that was the best-case scenario. "Gemon, I will face the Dan Vara alone. There are important discussions to be had, and I want you to be rested for the return journey," said the Duke. Then he turned to one of the warriors still standing nearby and beckoned her over. "Ensure that my men receive some food and rest while I speak with your lady. Show them the famous hospitality of your city." The warrior, attentive but silent, listened to the request, nodded in confirmation, and then withdrew, her post near the group immediately being filled by another warrior with brown hair. And although Gemon felt uneasy, he was impressed by the discipline and polite persistence of these warriors. He resolved to bring his own men to a similar level if he had time for training next time.