The next eleven days were rather simplistic for the party and their employer. Tensions were severely lessened as multiple attempts at small talk had been tried and some even stuck around. Tika and Sol found common ground on the matters of arcane. Whilst Gunnir has plenty of tales from his time employed in a mercenary company. Cristal and Hellas often joined conversations but never started them. The only times they start a conversation seems to be when concerning the party as a whole.
The grand duke on the other hand has kept quiet, instead of avoiding simply Sol. He has become a shell of himself. Less talkative and with a more unmotivated appearance. Instead of the man who looked 70 when Sol met him first, he now truly looks like a man over a century old.
The broken demeanor became a source of worry of the newly united party, fearing that his judgement or even his will to live could be brought into question.
Cristal especially has been trying to make sure that the grand duke will not do anything foolish. As unofficial voice of the party, the well-being of their employer is of the upmost importance.
After the third day, Sol apologized. Claiming that he was just angered by the thought and that he simply doesn't understand the burdens of nobility. The apology was not truly meant by the shade demon. He considers the grand duke a coward running away from responsibility and his time in Appolyian has made him quite unappreciative of these faults. However, for the importance of the mission he was prepared to lie.
Unfortunately the lie had little effect. Hellas even claimed whilst riding the carriage with Gunnir that it felt a challenge to even reach Barydon at this rate.
On the twelfth day, they arrived at the capital of the Grand duchy of Witon. Barydon is a harbor city located next to "Round Mouth's bay" north of the "Silver Teeth" river. Yeorough whilst the largest city in Creseytesia does not even compare to Barydon. The harbor city is an important trade post in Round Mouth's Bay and the only large harbor city in the Grand Duchy of Witon. Add to that this is also the capital of the Grand duchy, and it's clear why the people of this country live here acting more like ants than a human society.
Even at the gates land inward you can hear the many sailors and traders yell many voices drowned out by the constant noise of bells announcing the departure of ships. The party with their carriage now stand before the gate halted by 2 guards. Unlike the archers that stand on the thick stone wall, they are heavily armored. The sigil of a fisherman fishing branded on their shields, whilst their steel plate armor shows they're knights themselves and not a local militia.
"Names and purpose?" The slimmer knight comes and asks, a female voice of an inquisitive nature.
"Hellas, Gunnir, Sol, Cristal, Tika and Derick. We're adventurers from Creseystesia's eagle guild passing by with our employer." Hellas replies honestly for all the names except for the one of the grand duke.
The female knight circles the carriage, her helmet tilts sideways as she looks around. The knight opens the door seeing 2 women and an old man sit in the back.
"Names and purpose?"
"Cristal."
"Tika."
"Derick."
Each passenger replies obediently with their own names fake or real.
"And what's the purpose of this trip?" The knight asks toward the older gentlemen, realizing that the others would be the adventurers.
"I wish to visit family in Westfield. However, with the current way of things I decided to hire protection." The grand duke replies sounding truly defeated, like an old man speaking his last wish.
The female knight inspects the carriage for a bit as she sees the two rearing horses' sigil. She walks to the gate and beckons with her arms that they are allowed entry.
Now in the city, the busy harbor city has only become more intense. The street are filled with deckhands and traders carrying goods around toward their destination or traders trying to sell said goods. Crabs, fish, and pearls seem to be in abundance but also more exotic items as spices and herbs of specific far away regions are being sold.
Unlike Yeorough the city seems to house a lot more differing social classes. There are beggars and nobles, people scraping to make a living, and wealthy merchants considering buying another ship.
Guards also vary intensely only the ones with the sigil of the fisherman fishing wearing steel plate armor. Some even patrol on horseback whilst other guards have far less expensive armor. They generally still have some plates and an iron helmet however the rest of the materials are of less expensive make. The weapons these lesser outfitted guards wielded were mainly spears, something that catches the interest of Sol who once again sits on top of the carriage getting some glances.
"Here I thought I would get the most stares." Gunnir says nearly snickering as the chained-sleeved and abdomen-exposed party member sitting on top of a roof is unsurprisingly catching quite some eyes.
"People are going to start thinking that we're part of a brothel." Hellas adds on jokingly, still keeping watch.
"We do offer quite a diverse range. A large strong man, a rose-haired nimble man, and the best of both worlds. An understandable mistake." Sol says as he purposefully lays him down like a model. Winking at some who are obviously looking.
A peal of short laughter follows from Hellas and Gunnir as Sol continues to amuse himself.
"Do keep in mind a low profile was requested." Hellas reminds Sol, seeing him truly embrace the attention.
"I've tried that before honestly, we're better off acting outlandishly. No one's going to think that we're doing our task if we act out a bit."
"I guess we have to wait and see. But just so you know I don't think our elder will appreciate the matter."
"Our elder doesn't appreciate a lot." Sol replies his playful smile disappearing.
Hellas sighs acknowledging Sol's statement. The party manages to navigate themselves through the city, looking for a place to stay as they end up near the harbor.