The morning sky was still veiled by a thin mist when the massive procession of one hundred and fifty steel-wheeled carriages slowly crawled down the eastern hill. Iron rims groaned against the stone road, echoing alongside the thunderous steps of warhorses, muscular beasts clad in iron-plated saddles.
Their nostrils flared white vapor into the chill dawn, manes whipping like dark banners. Atop the hill stood a towering watchtower, manned by heroes in full battle gear, their armor gleaming faintly beneath the weak sun. The banner of the Association fluttered proudly at its peak, emblazoned with the holy symbol of light, declaring unmistakably who ruled these lands.
The guards atop the tower observed the long convoy with narrowed eyes, until one of them shouted with a booming voice:
"Open the Eastern gate! The candidates from the Valiant Alliance have arrived!"
