IV
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Arc IV Chapter 5
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7th Ignis Solar IX AAC 753
The Duchy of Schwarzwalt was a rich land, a joyous land. Fed by the thawing water of eternal ice and glaciers, countless springs sprang froth from the depths of rock and stone, through clefts and crevices, from the highest snow clad peaks water poured down into the valleys. Erosion and time paved water's way, as the element found paths where none were before and overcame every obstacle in its way through sheer stubbornness and will. Nothing would stop the forces of nature. Even the hardest granite bent under its mighty will. Irresistible and unstoppable, water sought its way, flowing down the mountains, hills, and forests, down into the valleys where weak rivulets formed wild creeks, where creeks, nourished by rain, united to a single stream, where the green emerald currents turned a stream to a mighty river, a river named Frey.
Her water brings life to the vast eastern plains of Schwarzwalt. Rich in minerals and nutrients, her blessing turns even the barest ground into arable land, the most unforgiving earth into fertile soil. Harvests were rich and bountiful, and the people of Schwarzwalt knew no scarcity. Mother nature provided them with her fruits even in the direst of the times.
To the northwest, impassable mountains rose skywards, the White Alps. Insurmountable in their height and harsh, they separated the duchy from the rest of Arcadia, but the mountains rewarded the brave and industrious with their wealth. . Beneath their surface, beneath the stone and rock, slumbered hidden treasures, precious minerals and metals, only waiting to glimpse the light of the day. Copper and iron, tin and zinc, old and trusted companions of man since the dawn of civilisation. Traces of gold and a cornucopia of raw silver, and even rare deposits of legendary mythril. Yet it was the silver that brought wealth and prosperity to Schwarzwalt. The furnaces of the ducal mints never tired. Their fires burned day and night, ever craving the noble metal with insatiable hunger. Silver that was the very lifeblood of Schwarzwalt, invigorating commerce and industry alike.
To the south, endless forests bordered the duchy, extending across the land, acting as a natural barrier against the outside, yet roads led westwards, deeper into Arcadia’s heartlands.
All in all, Schwarzwalt was a blessed land and Freyburg was the crown of the land and her people, the capital of the duchy of Schwarzwalt. A city proud and rich in history, even ancient compared to others, located upon the plentiful and verdant banks of the river Frey at the fringe of alpine mountain ranges.
From a nameless hamlet of farmers and shepherds, Freyburg grew to a town of craftsmen and artisans, to a vibrant city of merchants and burghers, to a pulsating metropolis of wealthy patricians and nobles.
Higher, higher, ever higher, grew buildings of stone, mortar, and wood, guarded by imposing walls. They bore testament to the wealth and power of a city without equal across the east of Arcadia, reigning supreme over the wide open plains, welcoming adventurers and thieves, knights and ladies, mages and nobles.
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On a hill throned the castle of Schwarzburg, the hereditary seat of power of the House von Schwarz, unchanged by the passage of time and ages. Its dark walls, its ominous battlements, were all too familiar to a certain girl and her brave doll companion.
At long last, Aurora and her doll returned to the place they once called home.
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The gates of Freyburg were imposing. At least, for a small girl like her and her doll. Everything looked much bigger from down below. Guarded by watchful eyes and heavily armoured soldiers, the gatehouse guided the masses. Guards patrolled the area, prepared to quell any sign of chaos or unrest. Not on their watch. Officers directed the arriving people through layers of checkpoints and stations in an orderly fashion. Clerks and officials processed documents, meanwhile guards and custom officials cleared freight and goods. Much to the annoyance of the charged merchants.
Aurora and her entourage spent their time waiting in a long line among travelling folks from far and near. They were all waiting to be processed and granted entry to the city.
Her eyes stole a glimpse, peeking past all those in line before them, spotting a series of guards and clerks checking papers and documents.
Her eyes blinked. This might take some time. Aurora and her doll returned to waiting obediently in a line like the good girl she was.
...
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...
The line had barely moved at all.
Impatient, Aurora tugged at Lambert's clothes. “Uncle Lambert, are we already there?”
A sigh escaped him. “For the tenth time, WE ... ARE ... NOT ... THERE ... YET. Be patient and behave.”
Aurora grumbled, yet behaved. So she and her doll waited. And waited. And waited. Her doll proved much better at waiting than her. Aurora doll remained silent throughout the entire time. Not a single word crossed her lips.
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...
The line grew shorter and the sun rose higher. A boy was denied passage because he failed to provide the necessary documents, nor able to afford the gate toll. The guards turned him away, crushing his hopes. Judging by his ragged appearance, the boy hailed from a rural background.
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A heated argument escalated. A man had apparently forged his documents. The man denied the charges and began protesting. He claimed he was the distant cousin of a powerful nobleman, and they would all face his wrath. Yet his bitter complaints protests fell on deaf ears. The iron gears of bureaucracy remained uncompromising, and the guards quickly apprehended the troublemaker, as he was already disrupting procedures.
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Aurora shifted weight from one foot to another, before shifting back again. Her feet grew tired. Waiting while standing was hard work.
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Her lungs started coughing. Impertinent dust dared to enter her lungs without her permission.
A noble carriage and their notable escort of mounted knights passed them at considerable speed, uncaring about their existence. The carriage whiled up copious amounts of dust. Unlike them, wasn't subjected to any sort of controls. The guards even straightened their backs and saluted the noble retinue ... Arseholes ...
The high borns were not meant to suffer the daily frustrations of their low born brethren. Contrary to common man, they didn't need to wait in line under the sun for untold hours by virtue of their birth and privileges ...
“Hachoo. Hachoo. Hachooooo. Hachooo.” Aurora was forced to sneeze. The fine dust tickled her nose. “Hachoo. Hachoo. Hachoooo.”
Her eyes narrowed at the distancing culprit. The carriage disappeared at the horizon among the maze of buildings and streets. Whichever noble responsible for this terrible affront earned her undying and everlasting hatred. They would pay for their nefarious deeds. She remembered their crest, a golden lion on red ground ...
“Hachoo. Hachoo. Hachoooo.” Revenge would surely befall them. Not today. Not tomorrow. But one day for sure.
Aurora and her doll were plotting and scheming in their vendetta against their common unknown enemy, meanwhile, waiting continued. They were waiting. And waiting. And waiting until ...
“Next!” a nameless clerk shouted. It was finally their turn.
image [https://i.imgur.com/Uu6d678.png]
White Alps
image [https://i.imgur.com/Qrc9alU.png]
City of Freyburg
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