The day is moderately cold in this part of Rurik and the traveler has spent the past several days crossing the tundra that separates Oresetes from Rurik. The last two days has seen the end of his food and water. This tribesman from Manshar needs to rest. He finds a low hanging of stone and shelters himself from the night. Slumber comes easy if you have been in the tundra for days.
Following morning he searches for water the entire day to replenish his goatskin to no avail. Now, as the sun fades into the western sky in the distance he has found what he's been paid partially for. Klan the accursed looms in the dusk between mountains. Approaching the city the traveler keeps away from the colossal gate, the only entrance into this city of horror. With countless skulls stacked all around the fortified walls as to keep wanderers away.
The two posted sentries are members of the Shurran cult. To be seen is to invite certain death. These guards would kill him on sight without question. Thus climbing a low rise of rock near the main gate looking down at the guards. A determined face of youth, with smoldering black eyes and coarse black hair. Shoulders suggesting the controlled ferocity of a young lion in repose. This is Tarn of Oresetes and enter this city he must. For you see he has been promised a king's ransom to bring back Baron Ludro's daughter from the clutches of these devils if indeed isn't too late.
He leaps with the element of surprise. Dropping down and with the flat of his scimitar Tarn gives the nearest sentry a knock to his skull that should put him asleep for a few lifetimes. Now the other sentry like his companion has no chance either and he joins his partner in the land of shades.
Tarn heads for the interior of the city. He has no idea where the girl is at. Countless rows of huge columns with inscriptions surround him. Death waits around every corner but Tarn feels confident with his newly acquired scimitar with sorcerous properties. In the shadowy hall the weapon dimly lights up to Tarn's amazement. Part of his payment from the Baron a powerful member from the hereditary of Parsifal. Tarn means business so he makes the first move. The Oresetian skewers the closest guard. The other guard aware charges at Tarn recklessly with sword on high. No chance against a confident sword arm. With a side swipe the sentry falls in two. These sentries are mostly slaves of the priests. Several more come at Tarn with swords held on high. Easy prey for a cool head and a fast arm with a sorcerous weapon. Men fall in the brooding shadows of this city. And lurking in the shadows something moves. Down another hall Tarn hears what seems to be a heavy gate creaking open. A gust of wind embraces him. "By my ancestors!"
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