The Distinguished Mr. Rose Chapter 36: Chapter 36: Roncevaux Fortress

Read chapter 36 of The Distinguished Mr. Rose by QuiteTheSlacker on NovelPedia.

Chapter 36: Roncevaux Fortress “Jesus… take a gander outside, everyone. It looks like we’re gettin’ close.” Marco frowned, standing near the window. It was mid-afternoon the day after Lucius’s tea party with Sir Ruggiero. The Hippogriff Express had sailed smoothly through the empire’s lands, but at a certain point, the scenery began to change. There were no luscious meadows, no fields of golden wheat or crop. Instead, the air around them filled with a musky fog, dense, as the soil below devolved into a barren, hostile grey. Even the light seemed to wither here, purple skies replaced by a swamp of sickly green. Harper poked her head out and winced at the sight. “If this ain’t a bad omen, I don’t know what is. Can’t see a speck of life down there.” No cities, no towns, not even a farm. This was not a place the living should tread. Mili pushed her way through and peered off into the distance. “Hold on… I think I see something.” There, gradually coming into view, was a pitch-black fortress that reached up all the way to the heavens. It towered above the land like an ominous spire, forming a long stretch of wall that continued on far out of view. It was very much different from the glittering castle of before: from the dilapidated ramparts, to the watchtowers veiled in shadow, and even the dull stones that made up the base—everything was drenched in a miserable aura of death. It was at the center of this sordid bastion that the train made its final descent. A horn rang to signify its arrival, and soon, players hesitantly stepped out of their dwelling and shuffled outside. Ruggiero awaited them with a grim demeanor. “We have arrived,” he said, carefully studying the crowd to make sure they were still of sound mind. “Remember what I have said before: Do not, under any circumstance, wander away from where you are allowed.” A group of paladins emerged from the gate. They donned the same armor as those in the capital, wielded the same weapons, but their gaze was different—twitchy and on edge. The warriors looked ready to maul a man at the slightest provocation. Fortunately, they were kept in line by someone who appeared to be their commander: a great hulking mountain of lard and muscle. Unlike the refined, tempered discipline of those like Ruggiero and Roland, this fellow hid not the wild fury rampant in his brawny limbs, in his unruly white beard that dangled to his waist. He was a juggernaut of a man—aged, intimidating, hardened by battle. Even his voice boomed with a deep gravitas as he greeted Ruggiero, lumbering over and placing a massive hand on his shoulder. “Ooh…” the giant heaved. “You are the Winged Terror of the Skies. I remember many a campaign ruined by your bombardment.” “That was a lifetime ago, Sir Ogier. Now I am a Peer - the same as you.” Ogier uttered a low, gleeful rumble. “Indeed, we live in amusing times. Old enemies turned ally. New foes that surge without end. For the clergy to cease your twenty-year long confinement… those fools must be quite desperate to bring results this time.” Ruggiero winced at his words. “I was not confined. They merely deemed me of greater use whilst serving the castle.” “So you tell yourself.” The giant trudged over back to his fellow guards, and then looked out toward the players. “No matter. I have no grudge with you, warrior of the Moors. All I seek is to determine whether the ones you bring may be of use.” He leaned in, rubbing his beard. Apparently the man didn’t like what he saw. “I was promised heroes of God.” “Then you have been promised correctly. These are the chosen summoned to our realm not long ago.” The giant slapped his belly and bellowed out a great, mighty guffaw. “Then the Lord has abandoned us. These newborn whelps—our saviors? I do not take kindly to jests.” “They are more competent than they appear. Worry not over their capability; that is not the purpose of this visit. We are here to observe and nothing else.” “Mm. So our suffering is now meant to provide a show. Ho