The caretaker looked wide-eyed, but quickly ran into the stable and produced a saddled, wolf-like catamog. As he handed Baelisk the reins, Baelisk likewise produced a small bag of coins, shoved it into the caretaker’s hand, and as soon as his leg swung over the saddle, spurred his new steed forward. The caretaker weighed the bag in one hand and spilled the coins out into the other. His eyes went wide with shock.

"Sir!" he yelled after Baelisk. "This is far too much!" But he was gone. Out of hearing, but even if he had been able to hear he was far too rushed to care. Gold was easy to come by; becoming royalty was a one in a million proposition.

Baelisk rode hard, spurring his catamog through the winding streets of Tataria toward the hard skyline of Stonecastle that constantly loomed over the city. Street merchants and young children looked up in surprise as the captain shot by on his steed. One pottery merchant ran into Baelisk's path, assuming that he might stop. An instant before the pot-carrying merchant would have been run over, he realized that the guard captain was not about to stop and jumped out of the way, dropping pot.

Baelisk hadn't even seen the merchant, and probably would have broken more than a pot if the merchant hadn't moved. His focus was on the castle. At some point he realized that riding so blindly could be a hazard to the people on the streets. Their problem for jumping in the way of a catamog in full sprint! he reasoned breathlessly.

After what seemed to him much longer than half an hour, Baelisk finally crossed the drawbridge to the Stonecastle. He was tired; his armor was twisted around his body with the straps in the wrong places, and his hair was as stiff as straw. He rode to the royal stables and asked the stable boy to watch his catamog, who was deathly exhausted, and then started walking toward the gate, trying to straighten his armor as best he could.

When he got there, two royal guards were standing in front of the rusty portcullis, looking bored but impressive in their silver armor and scarlet surcoats. Baelisk stepped forward and saluted. The guards saluted back.

"I am here to see the king." he said. "He is expecting me."

"And who would you be?" said the guard standing to the right.

"Forgive me. I am Captain Baelisk of the Hymn to Dammon Cathedral."

The guards nodded in approval and motioned to a turret high above. As they did so, the portcullis slowly began to lift. After a moment, the gate clicked to a stop. The guard on the left motioned for Baelisk to follow, then led him into the castle.