Keeping to the most seclusive paths, Sir Aldren rode his mount to the west gate. No one met him in his way. Had they done so, he would not have spoken to them. His face was steel and remained immovable. The west gate was positioned on the opposite side of the city from the main gate. It was much smaller and led only to some insignificant villages outside of Rondinburg.
“Sir Aldren?” a voice blared. It was a young lad, no older than fifteen. He was standing beside the gate, a short spear planted in his hand. (more…)