[center][h2][color=f26522]Geoffrey Delshire[/color][/h2][/center]

The anticipation finally peaked. The entire journey up the mountain had been a rough one, and Geoffrey wasn't used to hiking such steep hills. For a moment, he turned and looked back across the horizon, where the rolling plains and occasional flickering of civilization could be seen, along with far, far off, the beginning of the endless forests that made expansion west near impossible. He thought to himself about the few short years he had been in the service, and how far he had come. To think that he would play such an integral role in his nation's future and the future of the lands on both sides of the Dragon Fang Mountains - Geoffrey quivered a bit as the thought went through his mind. He turned back to the hard road, walking amidst his comrades, the whole of them showing no actual symbol for their allegiance other than the occasional banner.

He let his mind wander as they all trudged up the mountainside, thinking to himself about the dangers to come. Supposedly, the twin daughters of Lord Grimm fight each other for the throne of the castle, and will use the two opposing war parties against each other to ensure their succession. Geoffrey breathed hard, worried about the possibility of - of course - death, but if there was something aloof going on outside of this 'simple' task. Considering how seperate the castle was from the rest of the world, he couldn't help but notice that something - the air, maybe? - seemed off about this place. Finally, after near a whole day of travel, the looming stone and metalwork of the outer wall blocked their progression. The gargoyles above, perched and fierce in appearance, peered down at them, mocking the band of ragtag soldiers and merchants, as if to say they had no true power here. The archers stood vigilant behind the wall, likewise staring the war party down, and the whole group stood still.

Outside of the gate, the main guardhouse seemed rather open and defenseless, but Geoffrey figured the archers above would make quick work of anyone who tried any tricks. He rustled around in his pack, grabbing the papers that he had been entrusted to carry, and approached the small building along with a few other higher-ranking officers. He prayed to the gods in his head one last time before presenting the documents, and stepped back from the guardhouse, allowing the more charismatic and superior soldiers to do the talking. His blood ran cold as a fierce wind swept up, and he could've sworn he heard it speak to him, warning him of what laid ahead for them all.