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."
The guard raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And who are you to demand an audience with the king?" he retorted, his grip tightening on his spear. "You look like a vagabond. Or a beggar."
Adrius took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure.
"I am Adrius, Archmage of this kingdom. The king and I have history. If you inform him of my presence, he will understand."
The guards exchanged skeptical glances. "The Archmage? We have an Archmage here. You can't just waltz in and demand to see the king by saying that bullshit. Now, move along."
Adrius felt a flicker of frustration but forced it down with a sigh. He knew time was of the essence.
"Listen to me," he insisted, his tone growing more urgent. "The kingdom is in grave danger. I don't have time to argue. Let me pass, or you'll regret it."
The guard smirked, clearly unconvinced. "Is that a threat, old man?" he sneered, his fellow guards chuckling in amusement.
Adrius's eyes narrowed. He had no choice. With a sudden, fluid motion, he leaped into action. The guards barely had time to react as Adrius moved with surprising speed and agility.
The remaining guards exchanged uneasy glances, realizing this ragged man was far more stronger than he appeared. Their initial confidence waned, replaced by a growing sense of caution.
"Form up!" barked the captain, a seasoned veteran with a keen eye for battle. "He's stronger than he looks. Take him down together!"
The guards and soldiers nodded, their expressions grim. They spread out, surrounding Adrius in a tight circle.
Adrius took a long breath. He had hoped to avoid this, but these soldiers had already determined to take him down. With a swift motion he raised his Starsteel staff high, the weapon glowing brighter as he channeled his Magic.
"Very well," he murmured, steeling himself for the onslaught.
With a unified shout the guards surged forward together. Adrius's eyes narrowed, and he brought the staff down, releasing a wave of Magic that rippled through the air.
The ground beneath the soldiers glowed with an intricate pattern of runes, and a shockwave of shimmering light exploded outward.
The guards staggered, their momentum halted by the powerful spell. One by one they crumpled to the ground, their weapons slipping from their hands as a soothing but overwhelming force pressed upon them.
Adrius had crafted the spell to incapacitate rather than harm, ensuring they would awaken with nothing more than a few bruises and a powerful headache.
The plaza fell silent, the fallen guards groaning softly as they lay sprawled on the cobblestones. Adrius stood alone, the glow of his staff slowly fading. He sighed, lowering the weapon, and scanned the area for any further threats.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the crowd that had gathered to witness the commotion. A woman stepped forward. She wore a robe adorned with intricate patterns, the symbol of the church of Astoria emblazoned on her chest—a radiant sun encircled by protective wings.
Adrius smiled.
"You just came back and already create this mess?" said the woman.
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