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The journey from Afdan had been a decently uneventful one. People on the roads avoided the small group, which only consisted of the half-orc Prince, one large orcish guard, and a slightly smaller half -orc shaman. as well as five large oxen sized boars. Three ridden by the individuals and two carrying the luggage the group brought with them. Which, in retrospect, was not a lot. As they approached the capital city of Astalia Gil couldn’t help but marvel at the city on the cliffs. The sun glistened off the sea as they approached. It was a sight that Gil hadn’t known he was missing out on. He stopped for a brief moment to admire the view from a distance. 

“My Prince, we must continue. We must arrive this day.” The guard who accompanied him said as he turned to look at the young man. His voice was gruff, one that many would find intimidating. The blue eyes of the prince landed on the guard and he sighed. 

“I am very aware of this Aldar. I was simply admiring the Sea. I have never seen it before.” Gil replied, kicking the boar to start walking again. Travelers on the road would not know what the men were saying as they were speaking the language of the Orcs. His gaze remained on the ocean as they continued. If there was one thing he could say he was happy about, it would be the chance to see the ocean. It was a beautiful sight, one he would not soon forget.

It took about an hour for the group to enter the city. The city itself was something to marvel at. The buildings much more permanent than many in his kingdom. Being built of stone, some even build into the cliff faces. The Prince examined the buildings as the group traveled through the city toward the castle that sat directly on the cliff. It took him a moment to notice the murmurs as the group traveled. He knew that many of the other races were distrustful of his people. Orcs were seen as brutes by the rest of the continent. He was sure their arrival was one that would be met with a mix of emotions. It didn’t help that though the Prince’s clothes were rich in color, they were nothing to marvel at. His country did not use clothing to show status, in fact it wasn’t uncommon for Cheiftans to wear clothes similar to the people they commanded. Their status was instead represented by threads and ribbons braided into an individual's hair. Something other countries would not understand. 

After a short walk through the city they arrived at the castle gates. Where they were stopped. Aldar, dismounted and presented the Prince in broken Astalian. “Prince Gil Jalal of Afdan.” Was all he said. Which seemed to give the guards all they needed. Gil and the Shaman who accompanied the two dismounted as well, and their mounts were taken elsewhere. The group now traveled on foot, being ushered toward the main hall. Aldar took the lead, with Gil behind him, and the Shaman behind him.