[centre][b]Octavius[/centre][/b]

“King Osmodeus Marrow, First of His Name, King of Alabast, Governor of Marbis, Lord of The Bonelands, requests access to the city of Skyhaven to seek an audience with Arch Dawnbringer Shamgar Paragon,” the captain boomed up to the gatekeeper. The call was soon answered with the opening of the great doors that led them into the city interior.

The escort continued in diamond formation, flanking the royal palanquin positioned in the centre on four sides. The captain headed the procession, looking down on the citizens of the capital through his skull helm with steely attention. They gawked with amazement, whispering amongst themselves as the warriors wedged a path through them towards the Phoenix Palace. Captain Octavius imagined most had never seen an Alabasti before, or even a camel for that matter. He had heard bone armour was uncommon in other nations so perhaps it was these common folks’ first time seeing that too. He wondered what they must think of them: wondrous knights from a distant kingdom or outlandish savages from a decadent wasteland. Octavius feared the latter, and judging from the way these people looked at them, his fears were confirmed.

The Captain of the Skeleton Guard was adorned in his ceremonial armour, one of human bone with large pauldrons to differentiate him from the other guard, crafted from the skulls of two mountain bandits he’d slain over fifteen cycles ago. His helmet was the only piece that wasn’t human, worked from a cattle skull with a muzzle that acted as a visor and long horns curving upwards. He rode bearing the standard of House Marrow, its tall flag flapping in the mountain breeze.

Octavius could see the palace looming before him, a marvel of western architecture. He yearned for the chambers that awaited him tonight, for a hot bath to soothe his blistered heels and aching muscles. It had been a long journey from Marbis, sailing round the southern coastline of the continent to Lochbridge Port on the edge of the Royallands where they alighted and rode camelback. The king was safest in his palanquin so he was carried the entire way. They had erected makeshift camps by nightfall and packed up and marched onward at the crack of dawn each day. Octavius prayed he’d never have to make the voyage again for he had not the stomach for sea travel. He’d spent most of the time aboard the galley hurling from the bulwarks, much to the amusement of the sailors, and the camels were restless with their incessant bleating and stomping. The sea was no place for a creature of the desert.

As the escort drew close to the palace, the palanquin was set down so the king could ascend the outside steps. The guard too dismounted and passed their dromedaries to their squires. They knelt in unison as the king materialised from his litter, garbed in a fine bone-white silk robe that terminated above his feet which sported tan leather sandals embedded with small sapphires, rubies, and emeralds. Silk wrappings encircled the lord’s head leaving only his piercing yellow eyes and a small portion of forehead with a hint of fringe and nose bare. Rings and bangles of Alabasti craftsmanship decorated his arms and hands, multi-coloured gems on bone. The Skeleton Guard followed the king up the steps, only Octavius by his side. His scimitar was at his side, ready to be unsheathed quickly if required.

King Osmodeus paused a second mid-step and resumed with outstretched arms, a gesture of warm greeting. Ahead, Octavius saw a figure he recognised from a meeting he’d previously escorted his king to. It was Gori Lamillur, First Star of Ashtoken, stood outside the entrance to the palace.