The political organization of Dranir is separated into three systems.
The Tchozak Empire, the Human monarchy and the Noav Republic.
One would say there was a fourth one which is the Holy city, governed by the pope. Many scholars have argued over this topic since time immemorial and no one ever really found the right answer.
If scholars couldn't find an agreement on this, they were pretty fast on acknowledging the power the Holy city holds over the other humans settlement. The city had its own army, ruthless templars who were dedicated to the pope. Although the templars were fewer in numbers than the royal army, their fervor was undoubtedly a deciding factor in war.
Regular humans would fight for money, fame, vengeance or the thrill of adventure. Some found their solace in killing while others would flee without a second thought when danger was imminent.
Not the templars
They were one, a body united under a single banner of their faith, blindly following their orders. Their zeal was a scary thing to witness and no one wanted to deal with them. Even the monarch, king Petrev Holweg IV, was hesitant when a task required their assistance.
Yet here he was, Vallad, one of the youngest soldiers of Isern's barrack, marching towards the Holy city.
Why does the squad leader assign him to this task? He didn't have a clue but he clearly resented the man right now. Was it because he was a smooth-talker? Was it because he got caught pants down in the captain's daughter's room?
His horse has been galloping for a whole hour before he made it slow down its pace. Won't do if the mare died halfway there.
Even though he never went to the Holy city, he knew the general direction. He had to follow the road to Stugatt then take the crossroad. From there, one needed to follow the road without changing direction to arrive at Visagred, the Holy city.
The trip would take around four days on horseback. His only luggage was ration for him and the mare, for a one way trip. He will stock up on rations at Visagred for the trip back.
One would say that Vallad was a pretty boy, maybe a little to coquettish for his own good but he had a hard working heart. He would never back down from duty, whatever it is. Not that he never complained, just never in front of his superior.
Pushing his mare to her limits, he was able to shorten his travel by half a day. He could glimpse the huge stone rampart that circled Visagred. The base of the wall was thicker and sloped, preventing the enemy's siege engines from working correctly. The closer he got, the more impressive the castle became.
A colossal keep was proudly standing in the middle of the city, shining in gold and white. Four watchtowers were built, one for each corner and wall towers were located all around the curtain wall.
The sun was high in the sky by the time he made his way to the open portcullis of the rampart. Two templars were standing guards at the entrance, watching with keen eyes civilians entering the city in a steady flow.
Looking closely, Vallad could see another open portcullis a little bit further along the rampart, with caravans and other civilians waiting in line. The pace at which this line entered the city was ten times slower than the former, if not more.
Not wanting to wait in the slower queue, he followed the lead in the first entrance. After a few minutes, it was already his turn to go in, while the other lane hadn't even let a single caravan inside yet. Proud of his choice, he was about to step inside when a plated gauntlet stopped him firmly, nearly making him lose breath.
" Sigil " was all he heard from the templar's closed helmet.
Not knowing what the guards meant by sigil, he looked behind him, hoping for an answer and he sure got one.
Everyone behind him had their left sleeves pulled up to reveal their wrist, which possessed the presumably sigil the templars asked about. In his eyes, it was more like a branding, burned right into their flesh, picturing a sort of halo.
" Enter through the second gate " the templar coldly stated, pointing to the entrance beside him.
" Step aside " told him the second templar with a hand on the shaft of his sword.
Vallard hurriedly left the line and walked at the end of the line at the second entrance. Watching the first queue, he could see everyone rolling their sleeves, flashing their grotesque brand and entering smoothly in the city.
" What a bunch of zealots, geez " Vallad stifled a sigh. What kind of place would require someone to brand their bodies just to casually enter the city.
He had to wait for nearly two hours in line before he could enter, or try at the very least. With his mare at his side, he closed the remaining distance to the templar guarding this portcullis. Before he could even speak, the templars cut him off.
" Heretic! What's your purpose in trying to enter the sacred land? Have you come to repent your sins and embrace the truth "
Vallad was baffled. An heretic? These guys were worse than the rumors he had heard. He sure sinned a lot but only a fool would come here to repent.
Clearing his throat, he told the guards
" Hello sire Apostle, I'm but a mere town guard from Isern. I traveled to your… sacred abode to inform the bishop responsible in this area about an unfortunate incident "
He could see a light glint in the templar eyes through the slit of his helmet.
" What incident? Who dares defy our sacred order! " By now he was shouting in Vallad's face.
Vallad was glad the templar had a helmet, convinced that if he hadn't had one, his face would be drenched in spit by now.
Lifting both hands in powerlessness, he told the templar " Alas, we don't know the specifics or who the culprit is, but the reverend was murdered. That is why I'm here to report to the bishop. May I? "
The templar hand went down on the shaft of his sheathed sword, ready to draw it. Any bystander seeing this would assume Vallad's death was imminent. Barely suppressing his rage, he stepped aside to let Vallad in.
" You may enter and go directly to the keep in the center, you'll find someone there who will bring you to the bishop. Now go, heretics! "
Free to go, Vallad walked under the huge metal portcullis looming over his head then through a narrow stone passage into the city.
Murder holes from various size were lined one after the other throughout the whole corridor. Since it was narrow, any attackers would be routed easily by these. The idea of being roasted by boiling oil or heated sand left him shivering, quickening his steps to pass through.
Once out of the tunnel, he was greeted by bustling activities. Thousands of people were walking and talking around him. Shops were built at the base of the rampart, giving them protection from the falling stone a catapult or trebuchet could launch.
Hundreds of buildings were lined as such on both sides but the most impressive one was without contest the keep in the middle. A massive, towering structure wrapped in gold and white marble. Numerous stones were jutting out from the structure to disperse the falling damage from projectiles, preventing the damage to be done on a focused impact point.
Marble slabs on the floor were leading directly to the entrance of the keep, which was already compacted with people going in and out. Walking towards the keep, he caught a glimpse of numerous prophets, yelling their preaches and sermon on the crowd around them. Their oratory skills were on point because most of their audience were either crying or loudly praying.
Without stopping to listen, he finally made his way to the keep entrance. Both steel doors were wide open, ready to engulf Vallad into the heart of Visagred.