Castle Winterbraun, with its gray granite walls that had witnessed centuries of upheaval, seemed to breathe like a living beast. The wind whistled across the tower peaks, carrying the chill of the northern wastes. Inside, torchlit corridors felt emptier than usual, as though the very stones and timbers braced themselves for an unwelcome arrival.
With heavy steps, the imperial knights marched behind their leader, only to be halted before they could enter the grand fortress of the Duke who ruled the frozen lands.
"What's the meaning of this? You let us through before, to do our duty!" hissed the Baron.
Meier Alister smiled faintly. "And I will let you pass through the gates of this mansion, gentlemen," he said with unwavering courtesy. "But first, surrender your swords and steel. The finest rule of Winterbraun's silence is this: no weapon may stand before the Duke's authority."
