"Even in the face of adversity and looming Death, a Pawn, being known the vilest of all classes withal, only advances forwards."
~
The Gates of the Under-Ground Dungeons,
Kingdom of Tristendyre,
The first Phriday of the Second month,
XXI Year of Regency
The Gate-keeper eyed the young damsel and her escort. "Perishable meals don't wait eternities, kind sir", said Crescence looking impatient.
"Lady Serilda of the Repast sent River?" asked he, staring at the Writ. Crescence nodded, showing him the Covenant evincing River's employment in the Wing of Cuisine. "And my attendant", she gestured to River, the man standing behind her in the distance of a few treads, distracted with his first view of the Dungeons.
With the gender-wise ambiguity of his name, Crescence managed admission without further ado. They handed the Gate-keeper his meal and went forth.
