The sun was its highest peak, and the sky was clear with almost white faded clouds at sight. The heat from the sound and warm soft wind caused the farmers of the land to have a temporary rest under the shade of the hut they had, while their carabaos enjoyed the puddle of mud that was only preserved for them.
The farmers' heads turned around lazily, following the four carriages passing through the middle of their fields. It was surrounded by a strong muscular man who was mounting a strong and sturdy looking horse. They were wearing armor with no significant crest indicating what household or mercenary group they belong to.
The farmers watched only in silence, whether they didn't want anything to do with the passing group or simply didn't want their rest to be disruptive. Only they knew their reasons.
One of the people mounted on the horse, someone wearing a cloak that covered his visage, sped up in front. He matched the first carriage in line.