“And so was it, that on the twenty-third of the Ventrivox, whence the brother moons Windrofier and Gvarvriel hung full in the sky, that the chieftains and magnuses of the lands came to Colsumbri’s tent by his wish. Hundredfold lords gathered to listen to his proclamations, they filled the tent to almost bursting.

‘Many of you have asked me of how I shall conduct our future.” The Prophet began, as he began to speak to the ensembled lords, his feet standing on the same grass and soil as the rest of them, while they sat to listen. “With my visions, I have decided. I will not be Imperator. Among you, one of you must be selected from your midst, by yourselves to become imperator.’

The gathered lords protested. “We joined you because we believed in you and the promise of Wrifen-Driel! A lord that we do not know to rule over us is something we cannot accept!”

Colsumbri raised a hand, and so great was the respect that was afforded him that the gathered strong, proud, and wise men of Strovia were silenced.

‘My friends, I will not be wholly gone. I will remain as Steward, to shepherd our world to a beautiful new future. But you - all of you - must have enough faith in each other to let one of you be lord over the other. To protect and sustain, to feed and love. Only thus we can have the unity to raise Strovia to be worthy of Wrifen-Driel. For was it not, that he who represents everything in its whole, would not wish to see his creation united as he is?’

The men listened to the Prophet, and slowly, saw the wisdom in his words.”

- From The Chronicles of Strovia as Blessed by Wrifen-Driel, revised in the 97th Findrielpulz of the Velvet Seat

“So…remind me, the strap goes here?”

“Yes and ensure you do not pull it on too tightly, like that, like that…”

Roland fumbled nervously with the belt that he was holding, one eye constantly watching the legs of the horse he was attending to. While trying to ignore the smell in the stable as much as possible, he carefully slipped the strap over the belt, tightening the saddle around the horse.

“Not…too tight, right?” Roland said, scampering away from the horse almost a little quickly.

The old stablehand guiding him - an old ex-knight who still wore metal shoulder guards with a few ceremonial cloths to indicate his status - roared a hearty laugh. “Young’un, you don’t have to be that scared, he’s trained well, he won’t kick anyone just like that!”

“Ye…ah…” Roland made a shaky laugh, trying to get close.

“How is it?”

Around the stable, Masaru came around, riding a tall brown stallion of his own.

“The Mate Outsider seems to be completely scared of the horse kicking him just by tying a saddle.” The Master of Horses laughed, walking over to inspect the saddle. Sticking two fingers between the saddle and the horse’s flank, he nodded, while adjusting the harness. “Just nice, but you have to measure it next time.”

“Ok,” Roland nodded quickly, moving closer to the steed. The horse - a while stallion, seemed not to mind, tail swishing as he waited for the Outsider to mount. After a few aborted attempts, Roland managed to insert his foot in the saddle, and clumsily swing himself over the horse and into the saddle.

“Gently, gently,” The stablehand chided, watching Roland shift a little too fast in the saddle. “There’s no need to look like an accomplished knight. Just take it slowly and you will get better. You still remember everything I’ve said the past few days?”

“Y-yes.” Roland nodded, a little too quickly.

“Well then you will be alright. Just remember to not panic and trust in him to take care of ‘ye. Good luck!”

As Masaru moved away, Roland urged the horse into the trot, falling behind the Nictorian. Gripping the reins tightly and finally feeling the motion of the steed, the complete newbie at horseriding could finally let his palpitating heart relax. Since he had recovered from the injury, Madeline immediately made him learn to ride a horse, resulting in Masaru and the various staff of the royal stables taking him on a crash course on mounting one and being able to move at a trot.

“I know I’m doing this for the fifth time, but I swear, I still can’t get over how stressful it is,” Roland grumbled, as Masaru turned away from the stable areas and towards the paved road leading down from the Crystal Castle into Orismuth proper. “Feels like I’m honestly one moment away from losing control.”

“Its just your fifth time; have patience,” Masaru replied, holding the reins of his own horse in a much more relaxed manner. “There are plenty of men who manage to fall even on their first attempt. At least you are still on the horse.”

“Thanks, now I feel even more terrified of riding,” Roland said, having to force himself from tugging too hard on the reins as they moved in tune with the horse.“If that was supposed to be an encouragement, you’ve failed.”

“Well, I tried. Hopefully, the fear of the fall will motivate you to ride better.” Masaru said, a sardonic smile on his young features.

“Brrrr,” Roland made a worried noise. Ever since he had recovered, Madeline had ordered Masaru to drag him off to learn how to ride a horse - and for all his trepidation, Roland reluctantly agreed, seeing the importance.

Meanwhile, Masaru rode on ahead, heading for the side gate - a merged construction of a battlement atop of a portcullis and double doors, clearly added to the walls of the castle after its original construction.

After a hurried conversation, the guards opened the doors, bowing to both Masaru and Roland as they both rode through. As they were through, the rest of the city began to loom over them, as both of them rode down the hill towards it.

“Though I am curious,” Masaru said as the both of them settled into a comfortable trot. “If you do not ride on horses, how do you travel in your world? Do you have other beasts of burden on Earth, or do you just ride carts and wagons all day?”

“Well, this is difficult…” Roland tried to think of a way to explain the topic. “Alright, we have ‘carts’ or ‘wagons’, but they aren’t driven by horses or other beasts of burden. We call them…uh, vehicles,” he slipped the English term in, “And instead of using horses or other beasts of burden, they are driven by engines.”

“Engines, wait…” A stroke of realization hit the Warden-Primate. “Engines, so like the project you were talking about with the Sansuignors a while back?”

“Yes. So these ‘engines’ - whoops -” Roland tried using his hands to explain the concept, only for him to remember that he was still on the horse, resulting in him quickly grabbing hold of the reins again. “Er, ok, so basically, these engines end up driving and rotating the wheels of a cart, and that’s how you get a simple vehicle.”

“So the wheels on the cart end up pulling the cart forward, instead of horses?” Masaru asked, rubbing his chin as he tried to grasp the concept.

“Something like that, although it’s more of a pushing force… just think of it like that.” Roland shrugged, not wanting to get tangled with the semantics.

“That’s actually fascinating,” Masaru said, really interested in the concept. “Though…how do you fit those engines into a cart? Aren’t they the size of houses?”

“Eh? What do you mean….oh,” Roland snapped his fingers. “That’s - that’s because those are steam engines. Those…need to be large, for a variety of reasons. But for vehicles…we use internal-combustion engines, those based on the ‘Otto heat cycle’. Those are smaller than steam engines, but need special fuel…and other important factors.”

“Fuel?” Masaru repeated the English term again, not understanding its meaning.

“Like, logs for a fire.”

“Ah, ah.” he nodded with realization. “So these steam engines - they can burn whatever fuel that is available, but for those,” Masaru paused, trying to grasp the pronunciation, “in-ter-nal combus-tion engines, they need special sorts of fuel, but can be made smaller for your needs?”

“Well, its…” Roland wrangled his hands. “Its a little more complicated than that, there’s a lot of specifics, design details and all…but for now, I think that’s enough. I will have to look up the topic later at home as well.”

“Fair enough,” Masaru said, thinking. “So, I assume you own one of these…vehicles?”

“Um, no.” Roland began again, scratching his head as he tried to think of how to best explain the topic. “Well, ok…my family owns a car - think of it as something the size of a cart, meant to move two to five people - but I don’t own a vehicle myself. My father used to, uh, move the car to bring me around, or the whole family, though nowadays, I’m using…how do I say this?” Grimacing again, he paused for a moment to think. “Something…ok, in English, we call it ‘public transport’.”

“I’m sorry, did you say your father moves you around? Shouldn’t a servant be doing that instead?” Masaru asked, confused.

“Well, no! I think I’ve said it before, over here in Singapore, personal servants don’t realy exist - not in the sense that you think.” Well, maids are around, but I don’t think most people let their maids do the driving.

“Alright, then -” Masaru slowly raised a finger, trying to grasp the topic, “Then…what is this ‘public transport’?”

“Oh boy,” the thought of trying to explain the concept of the MRT, the bus system and taxis to the Nictorian warrior made Roland a little queasy in the stomach. “Ok, don’t freak out,” he began, laughing nervously, “but think of a lot of vehicles - large ones, mind you - bringing and ferrying large groups of people all across the city, at the same time, coordinated by a group of people high up. And if I want to get somewhere, I just…get on them.”

Masaru looked absolutely flabbergasted. “By the Emperor…” he whispered, “what is your world? How could your world assemble such a group of men that can serve the nation without problems…”

“Er, Masaru?” Roland asked, taken a little aback.”I don’t…think I got your meaning…”

The Nictorian sighed. “I’m sorry, I’ve let my frustrations flare on you. You see, the Empire…is run by soulless men, bloating the carcass of our bureaucracy with mindless thought and worthless edicts.” He sighed, uttering a curse, or a proverb in his native language. “If your world has solved those problems, well, you must tell me more.”

“Er, sorry,” Roland shid his face away to hide his embarrassment. “I don’t think that’s actually in my expertise…”

Masaru sighed. “I apologise, I must have overstepped my boundaries…”

“No no, it’s fine, it’s fine.” Roland nodded in return. “I appreciate you talking about that…”

Man, talk about a roller coaster of a day.

At that moment, his mind turned to an hour or so back, for the reason they had been asked to leave the Mallebrium.

==|==

An hour ago…

It looked like a formal meeting, but it felt more like a faceoff.

On one side of the Mallebrium’s main hall, Masaru Soris-Verdant stood at attention, with a contingent of his Magus-Curiassiers in formation, decked out in their enhanced leather armour, a block of blue draped over black. However, in this case, all the of the Magus-Curiassiers were holding their combat staves - one-handed rods with a single clear orb of aetherial crystal attached to their tips - at the ready, with their other hand placed, not-too-subtly, over their sword handles.

Facing them was a contingent of armoured heavy infantry - the Sovereign Watch, the elite personal guard of the House of Weltzen, bearing ornamental metal armor, the crest of Straskey emblazoned proudly on their breastplates. Each of them carried a halberd almost their height, and around them, the air shimmered with runes and sparks - the telltale sign of aetherial enchantments.

In front of both units, respectively, were the Magister Madeline and Princess Livia. Both of them looked at each other with stern looks, neither yielding an inch.

Meanwhile, Roland, still dressed in Earth-side clothing, having arrived just before the confrontation happened, looked on, flabbergasted.

One of the Watch - a commander, by the look of the non-standard cloak from his shoulders - walked up to his liege, pulling out a scroll. “By order of her Highness the Princess Livia, heir to the throne,” he began to read from the scroll in a clear and commanding voice, “The Arcanus Mallebrium will be declared sealed and impounded. All attendants, including those of the Uiatachians, are to remain within the Mallebrium, and to be questioned by Her Highness’s Most Loyal Watch, until it is judged, by Her Highness or His Magnificence and by the grace of Findriel, that all have not betrayed their oaths or failed their service.”

The scroll rolled shut, and the commander returned to formation in silence. Meanwhile, from the back hall, Roland could spot several additional men arriving - lightly armoured auxilla bearing arcane weapons or crossbows.

“Your Highness,” Madeline began, her voice remaining measured despite the increasing tension. “You are aware that impounding or detaining members of the Watch-Library is a violation of our agreement, right?”

“And in that same agreement,” Princess Livia spoke, matching her tone with the Matriarch, “Might I remind you, Magister, that if we were to find any discrepancy or reasons to doubt your allegiance, that we have all the reason to investigate?”

“And on what grounds would your investigation be founded?” The Matriarch countered back.

“Magister,” the Watch commander stepped in, mediating between the two women. “The Trisni of Plimsveri reported strange correspondence between your Household and an outside group. By what has been written, there are enough grounds to investigate.” He raised a hand - and the halberds raised by the Sovereign Watch returned to a rest position, held by the sides of their wielders. “We will question and we will inspect, but we will not subject your acolytes to more than is agreeable, and we will respect their boundaries - so long as you cooperate and work with us, Matriarch.”

There was a moment of silence. The two sides watched each other, waiting for the signals of their commanders.

“Very well,” Madeline said, sighing. “Stand down.”

At the signal, the Warden-Primate held out a raised fist and swung down in a chop. The Magus-Cuirassiers returned their staves to their belts and returned to attention with their arms behind their backs.

“Tell all members of the Household to return to their quarters and await further instructions,” Madeline spoke, this time in Uiatachian. “Secure the Codex, pantries and inventories, but remember to let the Watch pass wherever they want within reason, and…”

Madeline’s gaze passed over Roland, lingering for a moment. Almost as if she had an idea, she turned back to the Straskians, asking, “What about the Outsider?”

“The Outsider…”

“...is not Uiatachian.” Madeline finished for the commander.

“Singaporean, to be exact.” Roland blurted out, a little confused.

Even through the slits of his helm, one could see the commander narrow his eyes. “Considering this matter, we will have to consult His Magnificence-”

“He’s not a member of the Watch-Library or the Church of Soetheras, and he’s designated a foreign dignitary by our rules,” Madeline interrupted, narrowing her eyes. “I believe he’s free to remain subject from your questioning or detainment.”

“...That’s a reasonable argument.”

The Princess Royal turned to the commander, whispering into his helmet. However, the commander looked back, before shaking his head and following it with an apologetic nod. While the heir apparent retreated a little disappointed, the commander continued, “But if it is the case, then he cannot interfere during the proceedings, which means -”

“One of my men can escort him out into the city while we undergo your judgement; one of my most trusted advisors, the Warden-Primate here. I believe that’s agreeable?”

Both the commander and the Princess Royal looked at each other, thinking it through for a few long moments. Finally, the Commander gave a curt nod, and Livia sighed.

“Very well,” she said, pursing her lips. “I see no problems; do as you see fit.”

The Princess turned around, the formation clearing a path to let her through. The commander of the Sovereign Watch - for a brief moment, Roland swore he looked a little apologetic - turned around, clearing his throat. “Normally, I would have an escort for this, but we are…shorthanded. I will allow your man to escort him out, on the condition that he is the first to be questioned. Will that be fine?”

Madeline looked at Masaru. The Nictorian simply looked back, before shrugging. “Alright.”

“Very well. If there are no other concerns, dismiss your men. Let’s not waste each other’s time, then. By the way, Magister Arcanum…”

==|==

Roland returned to the present, drawn back as he realized he and Masaru were nearing the foot of the hill.

“So remind me, we are heading for the Catechy to Everlasting Findriel, right? Are they expecting us?”

“Yes.” Masaru nodded, “Assuming, of course, the Sovereign Watch have been diligent. They should have word of your arrival soon, and…by the way, are the ‘documents’ well concealed?”

“Not to worry, they’ve been sealed.” Roland patted the large backpack that was hanging off the horse’s flank, its modern features lashed messily to the various straps on the horse. “I’ve hidden them between all my papers and other manuscripts. They should not be able to find it, even if they open the bag.”

Masaru nodded. “There’s a possibility that there might be Watch members waiting for us there, and that they might search you - regardless of your status. Better to be careful. Once you are inside, though, you will be safe - the Catechy grants sanctuary to all that enters it.”

“The Order of Wrifen-Driel can refuse the Watch like that?” Roland asked, astounded.

“In some sense, yes.” Masaru nodded. “If I remember my Strovian history correctly…the Order is the successor of the highest spiritual authority of the Strovian Realm - the Council of Sages. Even after the fracture of Strovia, the Order retained a large chunk of its powers in the resultant Kingdoms.”

“It has that much power?”

“Well…” Masaru shrugged. “I believe the various resultant branches of the Order all have had to deal with the various Kingdoms respectively, and I doubt they are present in Plimsveri, what with the traditions of the Elzen…” Masaru shrugged. “I’m a Nictorian, and a Warden-Primate of Uiatach, not a Strovian. Sorry, but I don’t know any more than that.”

“Its fine, Masaru,” Roland said, steadying himself on the horse again. “But, that said…what about Varlac and Horac? Are you going to -”

“I have…arrangements, for them,” Masaru replied, “They will be temporarily reinstated to avoid suspicion, but we are going to have them drugged with sleeping salves for the moment - s othey won’t be able to be questioned during this period.”

“I mean, what are your final plans, judgement -” Roland began, a little urgently.

The Warden-Primate held up a hand, cutting the Outsider mid-sentence.

“I understand your concern, but you’ve asked me that question multiple times already,” replied Masaru, firmly. “All I can ask you to wait.”

“Well yes, but you are the highest-ranking Warden, perhaps-”

“These things take time, Outsider.” Masaru said, his voice hard, as he looked Roland straight into the eye. “There needs to be a tribunal, a hearing, opinions from my fellows and perhaps my superiors. And I cannot promise you things that are not completely certain. So until then - I can only beseech you to wait.”

Sighing, Masaru turned away, before continuing. “...what I can promise you though, is, that given the circumstances and should things go well enough…their lives will definitely be spared. That much, I can say.”

For a few quiet moments nothing was heard but the sound of clopping hooves on gravel.

“...thank you.” Roland finally said, sniffing a little. “I’m sorry, I forgot that it must be difficult to handle all these recent events.”

“Its my duty, and I’m should not be one to complain about my responsibilities.” Masaru simply replied. “Let’s not focus on that, however. Look up.”

As he said that, the both of them had reached a point above the foot of the hill, causing them to rear that horses and stop, overseeing the south-western side of Orismuth. Away from the harbour and facing the meandering River Oris, the smoky plumes of the blacksmiths and the tanneries could be seen from where they stood. Across the river itself, linked by bridges, were large tracts of farmland, interposed with distant houses linked to the city by a long network of roads. Upstream, a large building - with the faint flashing of runes - could be seen, as autonomous screws powered by magic consistently carried water up into the Erikderan Aquifer, which then sent the freshwater straight into the farms themselves..

Seeing his companion stare silently into the sight. “Given your home…this is probably not an amazing sight to you, is it, Outsider?”

Roland licked his lips, gazing into the main street. “I mean, its a new environment, the atmosphere is different…its a whole new world, Masaru. I like to see it, nonetheless.”

Masaru flashed a brief smile, almost wistful. “Call me prejudiced, but I Iike to think that for all of Orismuth’s unique sights, its still minor as compared to that of the Nictorian cities. If you can appreciate this…then I believe you can appreciate the Bridges of Wataruzia, the Temples of the Ragnis, or the Tombs of Satasko. And of course, there’s Uiatach’s many arcane wonders to compare with.”

With Findriel shining over Orismuth brightly, unmarred by clouds, the scene looked utterly picturesque. Sneaking his phone out of a side pocket, Roland raised it up and carefully took a picture.

“Luckily for me, I’ve been to a fair set of cities outside Singapore.“ Roland commented, checking the picture on his phone. “So…If its possible, I would want to visit all the places you mention. But,” he added, cheekily, “there’s no place like home, right, Masaru?”

The Warden-Primate gazed out into the expanse, at the lighthouse standing at the harbour’s edge. “Indeed, no place like home…” The wistfulness reentered his voice for a brief moment, only to disappear as quickly as it came. “...but now is not the time for that. We should get going.”

==|==

Orismuth, like any other capital city was indeed bustling with activity, something the Outsider noted as he passed through the various areas.

Firstly, the gravel road to the Crystal Castle gave way to cobblestone pavement, and with it came a whole line of strongly built brick and wooden houses three to four storeys tall. In this imperial center, the men that came and went through its streets were either nobles - visiting from the rest of the Kingdom, or staying permanently in Orismuth - and their servants, busy bustling around to serve their lords. Few shops could be seen here, save for a few craftsman shops specializing in the creation of whatever ornate trinkets that would be of some fancy to the nobility.

As the both of them trotted past, Roland spotted a few of the Advocatus walking away from the castle, heads together in some conversation. As they spotted Roland looking at them, they quickly separated, one of them making a bow before turning the other way.

“Remind me…Advocatus…aren’t nobility, right?”

“Technically they are considered one, but they don’t have the same peerage ranks as the other Strovian nobility.” Masaru replied, “And I believe they have the right to lodgings in this area. But otherwise…they are generally separate from the rest, unless they were made Advocatus from existing nobility.”

“...huh.” Roland commented, looking at the Advocatus quickly walking away.

A few lengths of road later, and the both of them suddenly stepped from the ‘noble quarters’ to the market area. Stepping into a suddenly tight corridor lined with shops, there was a more moderate crowd, men or women with more simple, dulled clothing walking about. That it was already midday meant that most of the crowds that would be here for fresh produce were already gone, currently leaving only the stalls that were hawking tools or other non-perishable goods. A few towers poked out of the morass of the market, and Roland spotted guards in armor looking out of them - a strategically placed station for the guards of the city to respond to any possible ruckus, perhaps.

As Roland rode by one stall, he caught its owner emptying a pot of something into a hole in the ground, right beside the road. Is that…a drain? he wondered.

“Masaru, does Orismuth have some sort…of waste removal?”

“There are…drains, I believe.” The Nictorian said. “Both for removing rainwater and waste, yes. However, I believe those are a little…old, having been last built before the breakup of Strovia.

“That’s unfortunately old…shit, they might be breaking down without proper maintenance.”

They continued on, relatively undisturbed despite the more regal Uiatachian outfits drawing eyes and looks from the crowd. Soon, the thatched roofs, brick walls and the general messy construction of the market area terminated in a wide-open square, a singular, tall, white building dominating the view, surrounded by a tall metal fence.

Before they both rode in, Roland took a look at the arch above the main gate - a symbol was bent and hammered into iron - the Stave of Colsumdri the Prophet, symbolized by an arrowhead pointing upwards crowned by four lines pointing up and to the sides, an eternal shrine to the founder of Strovia.

Under the symbol, there was a large, bold inscription - a feature of the arch that looked newer to the rest of it.

May Wrifen-Driel reunite all that is theirs under Heaven once more.

Inside the fence, the Catechy loomed over them both. Hewed from unblemished white rock, the main building was a modest three story dwelling, although the front of the building was mostly occupied by a modestly large chapel. The main height of the Catechy was from the massive tower that reached up to six or seven stories high, topped with a curved stone roof, with little innets cut into its walls for light.

Already, two members of the Sovereign Watch had been waiting for them - but right in front of them, a shorter, portly friar was waiting, dressed in a red cap, robes of the deepest crimson save a white collar, and the black chain hanging from there where his mark of office was borne. Hands placed gently over his belt, he moved ahead of the two Watch members, preparing to greet Roland and Masaru as they both stopped their mounts in front of them.

“Welcome, Primate of Uiatach.” The friar said, a welcoming smile on his face. “Welcome to the Dominant’s Most Honored and Sanctified Domain. I’m Custodian Ris, master of the Catechy to Everlasting Findriel, and your honored servant during your stay.”

Masaru got off his horse in one swift motion, greeting the friar. “Well met, Custodian Ris,” Masaru began, “but you must be mistaken; I am not taking refuge in your lord’s house myself, it is solely the Outsider. I must return to the Mallebrium post-haste.”

“Just the Mate Outsider?” Custodian Ris inhaled worriedly with a note realization. Meanwhile, Roland was still on his horse; straining to lower himself of his steed, thus hearing only the voices of the two religious speakers as he tried to dismount. “Oh dear me, that is a shame; I’ve just ordered the parish-girls to purchase food for two guests’ worth; surely, you wouldn’t mind staying, Warden-Primate?

“Your offer is noted, but I’m afraid the situation requires me to leave,” Masaru replied. “But has the Order always been this welcoming to men not of their faith…particularly a Nictorian?”

“All are welcome in the Dominant’s eyes, as they shall grant shelter to any who seeketh them.” The Custodian simply replied.

Finally, Roland managed to dismount, only to stumble on the landing, causing him to have to grab the horse for purchase. The stallion made an annoyed whinny, but thankfully, did not kick him.

“So you are the Mate Outsider.” Custodian Ris turned to Roland, stopping before him to make a welcoming bow. “We in the Order have heard greatly of your service to the Court; thus we are honored to have you as a guest in this holy place.”

“I…too, am, er, honoured.” Roland stuttered out, trying to match the friar’s elegant Strovian with his less than refined familiarity with the language. “Though…I assume that the Magister Arcanum is, um, paying for my use of your food and board?”

“Compensation is unnecessary,” the Custodian replied, “This is a service that we render to all in need; one does not need to feel ashamed of handing himself to the hands of Wrifen-Driel. As I’ve said - all are welcome in the Dominant’s eyes, even those who serve other masters.”

“I see, well-”

Suddenly, the sound of hooves clopping heavily could be heard. Everyone present began turning their heads to the sound, seeing a black shadow come rapidly towards to the Catechy.

A black pony suddenly ran through the gates, heading straight for the group. Before any of them could react, the pony ran straight up to them, rearing up barely a few meters away.

The Watch-men went alert for a moment, until the pony’s rider - a short, stocky and heavily bearded man wearing a heavy set of padded overalls - scorched, blackened with some tears in it - with a ridiculous amount of glyphs and patterns running down them, padded with leather armor over his vulnerable parts of his body. Despite the worn-down appearance of the individual, he wore a fat, golden signet ring on his middle ring - the biggest indicator of his rank.

As the Watch-men let him pass, the Sansuignor Lord marched towards Roland, a rather annoyed look on his face. “OUTSIDER!” He bellowed, with a thunderous voice that outweighed his small stature. “Of all places on the Lord Hristomver’s bowels, you are here?”

==|==