The Docks were in the Merchant District; stalls lined the narrow streets, with people yelling their offers and their wares. People pushed against each other, trying to buy a certain item before anyone else had the chance to.

Clashing smells filled the air from the different food stalls, while potions and reagents were sold to Mages in flowing cloaks.

The Council made their main head quarters in the Imperial District, inside the Royal Palace. They, in essence, controlled Kandrakah. Millennia ago, the Prime Races made truces, each taking pieces of the mainland and setting up the Council, where they would come together and confer peacefully.

They dealt with the currency, the law, and kept the whole world running. They were the only thing that could since the Creators left.

Nerui seemed right at home, which was odd for an Elf. They were distant creatures who lived in the southern forest lands of Rillwynn. They had only one city, Ulissryn, and the ones that didn’t live there lived in tight knit clans. They were agile, and Nerui had no trouble skilfully dodging the rabble.

Deadrick had a different approach; he strode forward, unflinchingly demolishing anybody who tried to stop him. One man yelled ‘hey!’ as he was pushed backwards, Deadrick shot him a look and he rushed away.

“You’re a scary guy, you know that?” Nerui said.

“I’ve been told that, can’t see why anybody would think it, though,”

Nerui laughed, Deadrick didn’t.

They reached the Imperial district within the hour, and were allowed into the Palace with a few flashes of the Death Ward.

The palace itself was extravagant, with climbing spires, high turrets, wide staircases and statues of former kings and queens lining the hallways and rooms.

“Well blow me, this place is unmistakably human. I’ve never been here, I mostly keep to the Understreets,” Nerui said.

“Don’t you ever go home?” Deadrick was surprised by his own sincerity.

“Depends on your definition of home,” Nerui replied.

A tall, handsome, blonde haired guard wearing Royal armour came to greet them.

  “Greetings… Inquisitor, I’m Danyel, the Kings personal guard,” The man said.

Nerui shot forward and extended her hand.

“I’m Nerui, pleased to meet you,” She smiled.

Danyel took it and smiled back. Deadrick rolled his eyes.

“I need an audience with King Streylen,” He said sternly.

“Sorry, you arrived rather suddenly, the King is with his advisors,” Danyel explained.

“It’s about the Unholy,” Deadrick told him, with these words, Danyel straightened up and sighed.

“The only thing I can do is tell you that the king may be available this evening, may be. I can’t promise anything,”

Deadrick sighed.

“Very well, me and my… companion… will need rooms,” Deadrick told him, during the journey he had thought of her more as a pet, he shocked himself by using the word ‘companion’. He was Deadrick Blade- He had never had need for a companion, and had never even considered the idea that he would.

“Of course, follow me, sir,” Danyel said, with another smile at Nerui.

Deadrick pushed past them towards the nearest archway.

“Other way, Inquisitor,” Danyel called after him.

The End

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