The great walls of Praag towered over them, as the north wind blew across the endless plains of Kislev. The sky, as vast as the plains they had traversed, was overcast and grim, though nothing compared to the darkly carved guard tower, and what Cyrdic suspected to be the Gate of Gargoyles. Even after all he had seen in his travels, the gate made his skin crawl. It fit its nightmarish reputation, with the swelling stonework overlook by hideously mutated statues that had been warped during the last great war against Chaos. Past the gate was an even more imposing wall, and just behind that was the fiendish looking fortress citadel that also served as the count's Palace.

"By Ursun's beart and my fathers horse!" Ivan boomed, holding his arms out as if he was to embrace the very city itself. Boris looked as if he would weep at the sight. Konrad and Yantz shared a look of relief after they had regained their composure from the horrifying gate. Dietrichia had remained very silent throughout their journey out of the World's Edge Mountains. Skaldi had done nothing but mutter about good ale, though occasionally he did speak ill of being brought here by foul sorcery. 

However, the gates were closed. Something Ivan found very confusing, for he had ridden to Praag many times in his life and he had always found them open unless they expected an attack from chaos or orcish raids. "Vat is the meaning of this!?" Ivan called up to the Kislevite guards atop the walls, men covered in Lamellar armor and carrying sabers and spears. 

"State your name and your purpose in Praag!" a guard called. 

"We seek shelter and rest!" Cyrdic called up to him, and the guard surveying the group could tell they were honest. The small convoy looked half starved and covered in week old bloodstains and dirt. "I am Ivan Petrovich, of the Petrov Boyars!" their boisterous companion called up, and the guards were taken aback, discussing among themselves for a moment before the iron rimmed gates slowly opened for the group. Cyrdic let out a breath he had been holding, thanking Sigmar for their luck. He couldn't imagine having to walk back to Ostland of all places if they were not allowed entry here. 

The gates revealed what Cyrdic did not expect however. Instead of a few guards or serfs, a group of heavily armed Hussars reared their horses up fiercely, and kicked their steeds forward at a charge that looked to be aimed at the companions. Cyrdic raised his sword defensively and stepped in front of Camilla, only for the cavalry to separate and wheel round the group, galloping toward the north, where fires of what the Ostlander suspected to be burning villages were. A rider stayed behind, waving for them. "Move! Into the city, quick!" 

"Go!" Konrad urged, and a horn sounded in the distance behind them. 

Cyrdic slipped an arm under Camilla's and pushed inside Praag, too confused and relieved to be behind friendly walls to be any more disturbed at the grim architecture. The gates were closed as soon as the group was clear, and Ivan and Boris were hailed over by a well armored guardsman in a plumed hat. Cyrdic went to go over with them but Ivan kept him at a distance, and began speaking his native tongue to the captain for a few terse moments. Cyrdic shared a look with Camilla, and when Ivan returned he had a stern look on his face. Skaldi raised an eyebrow.

"I go to speak to tha Count, but it looks liek they expect a small incursion of Chaos. Ve should be safe in the valls, do not vorry." He said, giving a forced smile and patting Camilla on the head happily. "Go and fint an inn. I vill kam back shortly." 

Dietrichia stepped forward. "I would talk with the Count as well," she said, though Ivan seemed very doubtful that was possible, giving her a shake of his head. "I do naut tink that vould be a goot idea." he said. 

"Nevertheless, I must try." she replied passively, and as Yantz stepped to go with her, she waved him away. "No...you've earned your rest. Go with them. As Ivan said, we will be back shortly."  
[@Penny]