Deathless

Deathless Chapter Four: Rose

Chapter Four: Rose

The gates of the City of Roses burst open, and four figures stepped forth into the famed utopia of Ninquelen, once the center of activity on the continent, now a sullen place struck with dread.

The sun had just risen over the Ragnor Hills to the east of the city, bathing the stone buildings in a dazzling orange glow, and yet, the neatly cobbled streets were silent. Citizens went about their business with bowed heads, barely speaking to each other if possible.

“Place has changed since I was last here,” Vanya murmured, glancing around.

“When was that?” Lindale inquired, for he had not been with her back then.

“Oh, about, five, six years ago? Damn, that was so long ago,” Vanya answered. It had been in the early days of the war, before Ashmur amassed so many troops, when the citizens were certain that the rebellion would be short-lived.

“Why haven’t we visited the city in so long, anyway, Vanya?” Lindale asked, curious, for in the entire time he’d been with her, Vanya hadn’t once gone to Ninquelen.

“Oh, I never saw the need, really,” Vanya recounted. “Never been a reason to. Criminals could be turned in elsewhere, and supplies purchased at somewhere different.”

“I see,” Lindale muttered, pondering over her words. He knew she was lying. He remembered several instances over the past five years when it would have been convenient, even advantageous to head to Ninquelen. But Vanya had always chosen a different destination. It was only now that they were forced to come to the captial, since it would have been exceedingly difficult to bring Angard, and the bandits’ cargo to the nearest Sentinel outpost besides its headquarters, in the town of Barackien, over a week’s journey from the capital.

There was something more to Vanya’s apparent aversion to the City of Roses. She was somehow prejudiced towards the city. He knew that her father, a Battalionsoldier, had died when she was young, but that couldn’t be enough to bring about such a loathing of this city.

Lindale shook these thoughts from his mind. Thinking about it wouldn’t gain him anything at the moment. The best he could do was wait and watch. Perhaps other details about this issue would soon come to light

With Angard dropped off at the Sentinel outpost by the gates, along with the sixteen crates of weapons and supplies he intended to deliver, the three adventurers, accompanied by Captain Fercen, continued onward through the streets of Ninquelen.

Ninquelen was designed by a famous architect, Aldar, who structured the streets so well that even an imbecile could navigate his way through them. The city was designed with eight vertical roads branching off from a single horizontal road at the front gates. Numerous alleyways and branches extended from these eight roads, but for the most part, most major businesses and residences rested along the main roads.

The palace, where the Emperor, his military, advisors, and court resided was at the opposite end of the front gates, where all eight roads culminated.

The most direct path to the Emperor’s Palace, also known as the Dragonskeep, where it was said a dragon’s dwelling had once stood, was the Middle Road, which was directly in front of the gates.

The foursome traveled along this road. With the city being so vast, it would take a good hour before they reached the palace. Before the war, it would surely have taken double, even triple that time, since the streets often be stiflingly crowded with the ten thousand residents of Ninquelen, their numbers pocketed with freelance adventurers, seeking their fortune, and traveling merchants peddling their wares.