The Lyma family's carriages approached the imposing gates of the city with an air of expectation.
As they drew nearer, the enormous stone walls loomed over them, their sheer size a testament to the city's grandeur. Towering guards in gleaming armor, adorned with crimson capes and silvered helmets, stood sentinel at the entrance.
That was the first surprise the group met.
… Proper guards?
No, this was simply bravado. It was meant to trick people into thinking grand of a place they wouldn't be allowed entry into.
Sarah Lyma's carriage led the procession, and her aged eyes focused on the guards before her. She gave a subtle nod to the carriage's driver, signaling for him to slow down.
The guards, having seen the Lyma family banner flapping in the breeze above the carriage, immediately snapped to attention.
"Halt!" one of the guards bellowed, his voice carrying authority. "State your business in the city."
