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A single figure rides down a cobbled and weathered path, his pace steady and cautious.

 

In the distance emerged Karovia, once proud Ruska, the homeland of his family. 

 

Upon a horse rode Andrik Vydra, last living scion of the House Vydra, vanquished from their ancestral lands by the armies of House Kovachev years and years ago.

 

He grimly thought of how the harbingers of his family's destruction now ruled paramount over all his people.

 

He rode with purpose, this man, his dark hair matted and wet. His eyes gleamed with ambition, barely hidden by his hard set features.

 

He arrived at the gates, voices calling from above.

 

As the portcullis rose, the man gazed over the flying banners of Kovachev and Karovia, muttering almost silently:

 

"Now it begins."

 

The lone traveler nudged his heel into his mount, cantering slowly into the city as riders came forth to greet him.

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Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.

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