As David and Cael approached the gates of Karvas, their sheer scale became even more apparent. They were colossal, rising like twin mountains of dark iron, stretching far into the sky. There were no small openings, no cracks or crevices to slip through; the gates were a solid, impenetrable barrier. Beyond them, however, they could see a distinct change in the atmosphere. The air shimmered with warmth, a stark contrast to the frigid wasteland they had just traversed.
Two giants, clad in heavy metallic helmets and bound to the gates by thick chains, stood guard. They wore mere torn robes, their massive forms barely contained by the ragged fabric. Another guard, an elf, stood atop the walls, his keen eyes scanning the surrounding landscape. He was the captain of the city's defense, his posture radiating authority.
As the two travelers drew closer, the elven captain noticed Cael. He leaped down from the walls with an agile grace that belied his position of authority, landing lightly on the frozen ground before them. As he landed, thousands more guards – mages, archers, and heavily armed warriors – materialized along the walls, ready to defend the city. They took up positions, bows drawn, spells prepared, their attention focused on the newcomers.
The captain's eyes fell on Cael, a flicker of recognition in his gaze. "Cael," he said, his voice warm but laced with concern. "It's been years. How have you been?" His eyes then shifted to David, taking in his disheveled appearance and the bone protruding from his mangled leg. He then noticed Cael's transformed arm, the strange markings and colors making him pause. His expression turned serious. "And who is this man with you? And what happened to the crew? And the reinforcements? Where's the prisoner?"
The captain took in the sight of Cael's transformed arm and David's gruesome injury, and his expression quickly shifted from warm welcome to stern concern. He abruptly silenced himself, realizing the gravity of the situation. He turned to the giants guarding the gate, his voice now sharp and commanding. "Open the gate!"
The giants, however, resisted, their chained forms straining against the heavy iron. The captain's patience snapped. He roared in fury, his voice echoing across the frozen landscape. "OPEN THE GATE!"
The giants finally obeyed, their massive hands grasping the heavy chains. The gates began to grind open, scraping against the icy ground with a deafening screech. The friction generated by the massive gates scraping against the ice and frozen earth caused the ground beneath them to heat up rapidly. As the giants ran faster to open the gate, the bottom of the gate caught fire, as if ignited by some unseen, fiery magic.
Once the gates were open wide enough, a wave of warm mist and vapor poured out from the city beyond, enveloping the area around the gate in a thick fog. The guards on the walls began to close the gates as quickly as possible, their movements frantic. Cael and David sprinted through the opening, the warmth of the city a welcome relief after the freezing wasteland. David, hampered by his injured leg, struggled to keep pace, bringing up the rear. He barely made it through the closing gates as they slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing like thunder.
The city that lay beyond the gates was a breathtaking sight. It was a sprawling metropolis, stretching as far as the eye could see, a stark contrast to the desolate landscape they had just left behind. The warmth that emanated from within was palpable, a welcome embrace after the biting cold. For David, the sight was particularly jarring. It felt strangely familiar, yet profoundly different. It gave him goosebumps, a sense of being transported back to his own world, yet seeing it through a distorted lens. The buildings, castles, and towers, while possessing a medieval or even primitive architectural style, were on a scale he had never witnessed before. They were impossibly tall, reaching towards the sky like the fingers of giants, and adorned with elaborate details that spoke of advanced craftsmanship.
The materials used in their construction were equally impressive. Some structures gleamed with the warm hues of polished brass, others shimmered with the cool brilliance of silver, while still others shone with the opulent radiance of gold. The city was a dazzling display of wealth and power, a testament to the ingenuity and prosperity of its inhabitants. It was a city built not just for function, but for beauty, a place where art and architecture were intertwined seamlessly.
As David and Cael stood just inside the massive gates, taking in the breathtaking panorama, the elven captain, who had overseen their entry, approached them. He gestured towards the heart of the city, where the tallest and most ornate structures were clustered. "The inner district," he said, his voice carrying a note of reverence. He paused, then added, "is where you'll find the Citadel, the home of the Council and the High Priestess." He looked at Cael, his expression softening slightly. "They'll want to hear your report."
They were escorted to a hotel, a large, well-appointed establishment meant primarily for merchants and wealthy travelers. While luxurious by most standards, it paled in comparison to the opulent accommodations within the inner district, where hotels catered to powerful figures, nobles, and even, it was whispered, deities who occasionally visited the city's famed hot springs.
Cael, who had never experienced anything remotely like a hotel in his life, was awestruck. To him, this was the equivalent of a five-star establishment, a place of unimaginable comfort and grandeur. The room they were given was spacious, with high ceilings, intricately carved wooden furniture, and thick, plush carpets. Soft light filtered through large windows, illuminating the rich fabrics and ornate decorations. He ran his hand over the smooth surface of a polished table, marveling at its craftsmanship. He touched the soft bedding, sinking slightly into the luxurious mattress. He was clearly impressed, taking in every detail with wide, curious eyes.
Raphael, however, was less enthusiastic. He surveyed the room with a detached air, his expression unimpressed. "It's like one of those 1800s presidential hotels," he remarked dismissively, the comparison lost on Cael, who had no frame of reference for such a thing. To Raphael, the hotel, while comfortable enough, lacked the modern amenities and sleek design he was accustomed to. It felt dated, a relic of a bygone era. The ornate decorations and heavy furniture seemed fussy and old-fashioned to his modern sensibilities. He shrugged, finding a relatively clean spot on the plush carpet and settling down, his mind already drifting to other matters.
The merchants, initially disgusted at the prospect of sharing their luxurious accommodations with what they perceived as common peasants, quickly shifted their attitude. They reasoned that if they, as mere merchants, felt such disdain, the actual nobles of the inner district would undoubtedly treat Cael and David with even greater disrespect. This thought sparked a sense of shared pride among them, a desire to elevate themselves and demonstrate their own refined sensibilities. They began to subtly compete with each other, each vying to be the one to introduce Cael to the finer aspects of the hotel.
They noticed that Cael was genuinely amazed by everything around him, his wide-eyed wonder fueling their egos. They eagerly pointed out the intricate details of the room's décor, explaining the significance of certain patterns and materials. They boasted about the hotel's reputation, mentioning its famous clientele and its connection to the city's history. Cael, in his naiveté, praised everything they showed him, further inflating their sense of importance. However, beneath the veneer of polite conversation, a subtle undercurrent of suspicion and calculation ran through their interactions. Many of them, despite their current wealth, had at some point been victims of scams or sharp business practices. This shared experience had made them perpetually alert, always looking for an angle, always trying to gain the upper hand.
They also noticed David's complete lack of interest in the hotel's amenities. They assumed he was preoccupied with his injury and the trauma of their recent experiences, concluding that he simply wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. They also felt that while his lack of enthusiasm could be excused given his circumstances, it was still somewhat disrespectful to not at least acknowledge the surroundings.
While the merchants were busy trying to impress Cael, David had retreated to the designated sleeping area of the room. There, he found a maid waiting for him. She sat patiently on a chair, a collection of items laid out on a nearby table: a steaming hot towel, a sharp knife, a bottle of alcohol, clean clothing, and a basin of water infused with fragrant herbs. She looked up as David entered, offering him a small, polite smile, ready to attend to his wounds.