Adrius's descent from the mountain range into the heart of the woodland was swift and purposeful. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the landscape, he finally approached the grand gates of Astoria.
The massive wooden and iron gates stood as a testament to the kingdom's strength and resilience, flanked by high stone walls that had weathered countless seasons.
The guards stationed at the gate eyed Adrius warily as he approached. Their suspicion was understandable. Adrius's once noble robes were now tattered and stained from his arduous journey, his appearance a stark contrast to the regal attire they were accustomed to.
One of the guards, a burly man with a thick beard, stepped forward and blocked Adrius's path. "State your business," he demanded.
"I need to speak with Aethor," he said with calm tone. "It's a matter of great importance. He'll want to hear what I have to say."