Erathal, Elvish City
14 Julla, 1066 MT
The queer dwarvish convey approached the gates to Erathal castle. At this time in their history, the gates were left open during all hours of the day, often being ignored at night as well. After all, since the defeat of the demons so many centuries before, there has not been a single threat against the kingdom.
As a formality, a single guard stood at the entrance to the gates. He leaned against the wall, whistling casually as people trickled in and out to make requests from their leaders. When he caught sight of this strange group, he stood up straight and called ahead.
“You’re looking mighty well-armed for a diplomatic convoy. What business do you have with Erathal?” he asked with only a hint of concern.
The lead dwarf did not slow his march, passing his gaze over the lone solider before reaffixing it straight ahead. Without looking at the guard, he replied.
“Oar business is with ye’ king. As ye’ were peon.”
In confusion, the guard stepped into the path of these dwarves, holding up his hand as a means to ask that they halt. This elder dwarf didn’t even look to see the confused look on the guards face, nor did he heed the half-hearted attempt to stop their progress. Instead, he merely veered slightly to the left and continued forward. The dwarvish warrior on the right rear brushed against the slender guard as he passed, his stout form causing the young solider to falter.
This convoy was not concerned with any formalities. They were only concerned with one thing.
Continuing their march through the courtyard, they passed a few other guards who seemed content ignoring them. They also passed a handful of random citizens leaving the castle, most of them wearing simple tunics and disappointed expressions. As they reached the entrance to the castle, they were greeted by two guards at the large, double doors.
“Hail and well met dwarvish travelers,” started the guard on the left.
“What brings you to our castle on this fine day?” asked the one on the right.
The lead dwarf grunted in annoyance.
“Why do ye’ insist on askin’ questions? Oar business is with ye’ king. Let us pass. We have urgent news.”
The right guard did his best to hide his own frustration, putting on a phony grin.
“What is this news in regard to?” he asked.
“Oar treaty with ye’ people. Open these doors or we’ll open ‘em oarselves.”
The guard took a deep bow, stepping to the side and opening the door. Though this was an unusual encounter, there was no indication that they intended to harm the king. If it was truly related to matters of their treaty, they were obligated to allow swift passage.
With another angry grunt, the dwarves proceeded forward and into the castle.
To be continued…