Mikhail -----Midday----- Mikhail’s breath passed out from between his lips as he walked down the large dirt road. It was strange, no one was on the road, especially during a day like this. Brynhild padded along beside him, her large form coming up to Mikhail’s hips. Solid steel armor covered her body, moving smoothly with the wolf’s muscles. A long, red coat waved in the light breeze, along with Mikhail’s black hair. Two sets of blue eyes scanned the road ahead of them, one canine, the other human. Strong, steel armor adorned Mikhail’s chest and back. His tough boots were caked in dirt. The handle of a fine sword rode just over his right shoulder. His strong jaw was set firmly. The duo had been on the road for over a week now, the Royal Notice sitting, tucked away, within Mikhail’s coat. In the distance, the midday sun illuminated the castle of Belvoir. Glints of light shone off of the high windows, visible to Mikhail. “Damn, It’s still a day’s travel.” Mumbling to Brynhild, Mikhail stretched his neck as he continued walking. -----Dusk----- Mikhail was sitting off to the side of the road, Brynhild curled up beside him. Her red snout, striking compared to the white of her body, was resting on top of Mikhail’s leg. A piece of venison hung out of her mouth as she chomped down on the meal. Sighing, Mikhail’s stomach growled. Reaching into his bag, Mikhail’s hand came back with another day’s worth of venison. Two days if he gave it all to Brynhild. Looking down at the large wolf, Mikhail smiled sadly. Once again, his stomach growled. Patting the wolf’s head, Mikhail put the venison back in the bag. Looking up, the man could clearly see the moon as it sat high in the sky. The dying lights of the sun just now vanishing over the horizon. Wonder sparked in Mikhail’s mind. What was over there, beyond the horizon? His father had told him that all ended when you reached the horizon, but for some reason, Mikhail just couldn’t believe that. There had to be something, right? Sighing, Mikhail leaned against the tree that stood behind him. He left his hand on top of Brynhild’s head. Trusting her to guard him, Mikhail quickly fell asleep, the sheath of his blade digging into his back. -----Morning----- His eyes opened, Mikhail rouse Brynhild. Apparently the night had been uneventful. Which was a relief. Scratching her on the chin, Mikhail threw another piece of venison at the wolf. Stretching, several pops sounded from his spine. Gasping from the relief that they brought, Mikhail opened his eyes wide. A loud yawn escaped his throat as he tied his bag back up. Hooking it around his waist, the man scratched Brynhild just behind the ear. “Come on Brynhild, the castle is a half day from here.” Indeed it was. Belvoir castle was astonishingly closer than it had been the day before. Its towers easily seen, their majestic might soaring high. Even the sprawling city that surrounded the castle had come into view. Hundreds of pillars of smoke could be seen. People were most definitely burning wood to cook their breakfasts now. -----Midday: The City Gates----- Mikhail stood just outside the city’s gates. Their imposing heights almost dizzying. Mikhail had never seen a structure as tall as this. The greatness of the kingdom’s architects was nothing to scoff at. The man, born and raised in small villages, began to walk towards the gates proper. Several carts, drawn by oxen and horses, sat outside the gates. Merchants and farmers alike stood together. Of course, the merchant’s carts had a number of armed men around them. Plastering a welcoming smile on his face, Mikhail stepped through the throng of people. Finding a lone guard, the young man captured his attention. “Excuse me sir, May I gain entrance into the city? I wish to apply for the Hunter’s Guild.” Mikhail’s country accent came out thick compared to the city-born voices of the people around him. The sight of Brynhild probably didn’t help. The guard looked astonished, but quickly regained his composure. Turning beat red, the man began to yell in Mikhail’s face, spittle flying everywhere. “Who the hell do you think you are!?!? Some fucking noble? Get in the goddamned line! I don’t want to see your face till you go through their!” Astonished, Mikhail couldn’t say a thing as the pissed off guard walked away, mumbling about country bumpkins under his breath. Blinking, Mikhail began to walk down the line, until a farmer caught hold of his arm. The old man had a crooked back, and a long beard. Strong horses pulled a cart, heavy with vegetables, behind them. “Young man, did I hear you correctly? You’re going to join that Hunter’s Guild?” The old farmer’s voice was ragged and scratchy, but their was a depth of wisdom behind it. His eyes did not match his hands. They were clear and bright, a vibrant green. Mikhail stood, taken aback, unable to say anything until the man spoke again. “Come on boy, you’ll go in with me.” The old farmer pulled Mikhail along behind, “The name is Jonathan Salksfoot.” Mikhail couldn’t help but follow the man. Gulping a little, Mikhail’s facade shattered. This was too much. Getting yelled at for no reason, now getting dragged along by an old man. The people in the city were truely strange. Calming himself, he spoke, “Mikhail, Mikhail Lannyster.” That was all he could get out before the man spoke again. “Well, Hunter, I have two requests for you.” The old man’s green eyes burrowed into Mikhails, “Don’t die and kill those monsters.” Looking back at the gate, the old man took out a series of papers. Handing them to a guard, Mikhail noticed the guard that had yelled at him earlier. He was scowling from a distance, but didn’t take any action. When Salksfoot returned, the duo entered the city gates, horses and cart trailing behind. “Monsters killed my son, boy. You are going to kill them.” Salksfoot looked into Mikhail’s eyes. There was a strength there, and a ferocity. Both of which are rarely seen in an old man. “You’ll find the guild halls down that way.” The old man pointed straight down the city’s main road. “Keep going until you reach the inner wall. Show them your notice and head right on in.” Pushing Mikhail towards the Guild Halls, Salksfoot continued on his way to the markets. Spinning around, Mikhail immediately lost sight of the old man. Blinking a few times, Mikhail looked down at Brynhild. “Well, I guess we should go,” Tapping the wolf’s head, Mikhail stopped in his tracks. His hand immediately fell into his pocket. How had that old man known about the notice? Feeling a cold chill run down his spine, Mikhail hurried through the bustle of the city, Brynhild hot on his heels.