Sven and Ollie rode in silence, each wondering what the Fighters Guild wanted with them. Sven stared into the distance watching the city of Silas come closer. Silas wasn't a huge city by any means, a trading outpost turned into a bustling hub of activity mostly. It sat on the edge of the Garnet river, a slow moving river perfect for trade. The area east of the town was rolling hills, with islands of green forest that cropped up in a mismatched patchwork. Far to the north he could see the outline of the Iron mountains, which were snowcapped even though it was late spring. Sven smiled at the thought of the summers he had spent traipsing around mountain glens, reveling in the shadows of the trees. His eyes moved again towards the city, and locked his eyes onto the gates of the city. After another 30 minutes they came to and were admitted through the gates.
YOU ARE READING
The Ironash Chronicles
FantasyTwo brothers in arms, with the help of some unlikely allies, find themselves on a quest that could save the world, or end it entirely.
