Few men were guarding the entrance of the Azusk– a small border town under Matthias march.

A man with clean shaved face, probably in his early twenties, was hunched on a chair by the door. He was wearing a red shirt complemented with black pants and long boots and a sword that just matched his fit attached to his waist. It was a little chilly outside, so he was wearing a blue upper coat above it. Rubbing his hands for the lack of gloves, “Hey! Remind me again. Why are we heavily guarding the door this cold night?” he asked.

Gird, another guard, standing beside the door in the same attire as the previous one except his red coat and spear in his hand replied, “Don’t you know?’. He had a long mustache that complemented his dense bear, and his deep and coarse voice made it seemed he had already entered his forties. He banged the blunt end of his spear on the ground, gesturing the young lad to sit uptight. “Oh yeah! You’re new. Jeff, was it?” The old guard stood straight as he continued, “The order came from the capital. To not cool down on the guarding for even a single second. Apparently, there’ve been instances from people disappearances to home killings. Rumor has it that a large criminal organization is behind this.” He had also heard that a n entire barony in the far south was thrown into chaos and destroyed but he couldn’t believe it was the work of the same organization as it happened too long ago. “Also, it was the Marquis’ order to double down on the guarding in near border towns especially during the night.” Gird, being senior to him, considered his responsibility to clear the newbie’s doubts while also instructing him to get in line, “Now that you know, don’t slack off.”

The other guards who were at the door, too didn’t seem to care. They were sprawling and slouching on the gate or the ground. Gird, furious at this banged his spear strongly on the ground, shouted, “You guys! I’m not gonna repeat it again.”

“Ok, Ok, old man.” Passing it off just like that, they went back to their position.

Gird didn’t care for them, as for him, he didn’t consider scolding those guys as part of his duty.

It was when he suddenly heard a knock at the door. Jeff; originally his name was Jeffrey but only people close to him knew that, everyone else who knew him called him Jeff. He stood up to open the small door to check who was knocking at this hour, but Gird interrupted him. He held his hand and gestured him to keep quiet and watch.
He then proceeded to slide the peephole slider and checking on the person outside. His height was no shorter than an average adult while it was hard to confirm his age as a cloak covered his face. He felt as if the stranger standing in front of him was a child, as of his years of experience; but he didn’t dare to welcome him in, as he knew what danger besieged him on letting an outsider in, in this appalling night. So, he went with a cold reply, “No visitors allowed at this hour.” And closed the slider.

Jeff looked at him in awe, amazed at how the old guard quickly took care of it. But he was still concerned, Would they go away just like that? What if they knock down the door? What if they break through the walls? Questions like these seized his brain as he found himself unable to resolve them.

Gird, placed his hand on Jeff’s shoulder and held it tight, “Don’t think too much.” Bringing him back to reality, “The wall and this door, they’ll protect us.” Continuing to consolidate him, he felt compelled to tell him the origin of the town.