Crownport announced itself long before they reached it. Western cities seemed to be like that, Reyn realized.

  First came the smoke, that prosperous grey of a thousand chimneys all convinced they were contributing to civilization. Then came the walls, white stone that caught sunlight like it had been paid to, rising forty feet with towers every hundred yards. Finally came the smell: money, ambition, and the faint underlying scent of people pretending poverty didn't exist if you built the walls high enough.

  ?Oh,? Venn said.

  "Seems... excessive," Reyn said, looking up at the fortifications. This was far different from Westkeep and Valemark. Bigger. Denser.

  Taller. She got dizzy just looking at some of the towers. In Bormecia, more than two stories were deemed extravagant on most buildings. Not to mention, tall buildings were easy targets should a dragon decide to do something about overpopulation.

  "That's Crownport," Randulph said, almost sounding proud. "The Crown's Port, if you want to be pedantic about it, which they absolutely do. Everything here is excessive. It's the point."

  He inhaled deeply. ?Ah, it's good to be home.?

  Venn's eyes turned wide. ?You’re from Crownport??

  ?I thought you were from Valemark.? Reyn pulled her gaze from the towers.

  Randulph puffed. ?I live in Valemark. I was born here. The jewel of Vaelen.?

  The road widened as they approached, cobblestones replacing dirt with the smugness of infrastructure that knew it was better than you and the roads you’d travelled. Other travelers merged from smaller paths, all flowing toward the main gate like money toward tax collectors.

  The gate itself was an architectural boast. Twin towers flanked an entrance that could have admitted giants, though the actual opening was much smaller; a person-sized door cut into massive iron-bound oak that proclaimed 'we could open the big doors, but you're not worth it.'

  ?Hrmph,? Randulph groaned. ?They used to have the gates wide open back in the day.?

  Guards stood at attention in armor so polished it constituted a fire hazard on sunny days. Their helmets had plumes. Their spears had decorative tassels. Even their frowns seemed formally trained.

  "Next!" one barked, managing to make a single word sound like an accusation.

  A merchant ahead of them presented papers with the nervousness of someone who knew the guards were looking for reasons to say no. They examined his documents with the gaze of scholars discovering ancient texts, despite the papers clearly being Dell, ordinary trade papers as common as the flu.

  "Purpose of visit?"

  "Trade, sir. Silk from the Eastern—"

  "Duration of stay?"

  "Three days, sir."

  "Accompanied by?"

  "My daughter and two guards."

  The examination continued. Each answer prompted more questions. By the time the merchant was admitted, Reyn was fairly certain they knew his grandmother's maiden name and his favorite color.

  "Next!"

  They stepped forward. The guard's eyes traveled up Reyn (barbarian), across Venn (injured), over Randulph (scorched), and then up... and up... and up to Puff.

  "No."

  "We haven't even—" Randulph started.

  "No trolls."

  "But—"

  "Absolutely no trolls." The guard pointed to a sign that, sure enough, listed prohibited entries. Trolls were between 'diseased livestock' and 'untamed dire wolves.'

  "That's discrimination," Venn said after reading out aloud.

  "That's policy," the guard replied. "Trolls are classified as probable threats to civil order."

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  "I very civil," Puff said helpfully.

  The guard's hand moved to his sword. Three other guards suddenly found reasons to be nearby.

  "The troll spoke."

  "Most trolls speak," Randulph said. "It's well documented that—"

  "Smart trolls are even more dangerous."

  "That's—"

  "Policy." The guard smiled the smile of someone who loved saying no. "You may enter. The troll stays outside."

  "He's our companion," Reyn said.

  The guard looked at her, and eyed her even more closely. His gaze went from her well-worn boots, to the many belts of her pants, to the way too exposed stomach, her wide shoulders and the massive hilt of Good Deeds. He nodded to another guard.

  "Then you can be companions outside the walls, Bormecian."

  More guards were gathering now, the situation escalating a bit more than the group had anticipated.

  "Perhaps," Randulph said, holding his hands up, "there's a permit? Some form or papers that could let us through to the Tournament?"

  The guard's smile widened. "You could get one at the Registry of Civic Exceptions."

  Randulph raised an eyebrow. "Which is in the city?"

  "Yes."

  "So we need to go inside to get permission to bring him inside?"

  "Exactly."

  "That's ridiculous."

  The guard’s smile turned into a grin.

  Reyn's hand hadn't moved to Good Deeds, but the guards noticed her thinking about it. More armor began congregating with the efficiancy of people who got paid to congregate precisely.

  The heading guard looked at her. ?The Bormecian would need a separate permit.?

  ?What?!? Randulph and Venn said at the same time.

  ?Safety. You come from the east, don’t you??

  Reyn crossed her arms across her chest. ?We do. I am on my Pilgrimage.?

  The guard glowered at her. ?Then you surely must know about your people invading Vaelen??

  Reyn blinked. Venn and Randulph stared at her.

  ?Invaded?? Reyn tilted her head. During the Pilgrimage, a Barbarian wasn’t allowed to involve themselves in Bormecian matters, but she was curious. ?Why would Bormecia invade Vaelen??

  ?We would’ve know about it if it was true,? Randulph said.

  ?Tell that to the reports of one of the eastern towns supposedly now under Bormecian banners.? The guard shrugged, then his face twisted. ?Some of those reports also involve a troll.?

  Reyn opened her mouth, but was shut by a massive hand on her shoulder.

  "Is fine," Puff said. "We wait."

  "You can't just wait outside," Venn protested.

  "Have waited longer for worse." He looked at the guards, who stepped back despite themselves. "Will make camp. You get papers."

  Randulph sighed the sigh of someone who'd dealt with bureaucracy before and knew resistance was futile. "I'll go. I know the city, and I speak fluent paperwork."

  "We should all—" Reyn started.

  "You look like someone who solves problems with swords," Randulph said. "Combined with these… reports… well, it's not exactly helpful to our cause. I'll be back before sunset."

  Reyn took a deep breath and subdued the Rage building within. ?Fine. Take Venn with you??

  ?Why?? Venn and Randulph said together.

  ?There’s a Temple inside, is it not? You are well on your way on your Path. You should continue instead of waiting outside.?

  Venn opened her mouth to protest, but decided against it. ?Thank you.?

  ?Fine.? Randulph sighed and presented his own papers; a wizard's certification that looked official enough to have its own certification. The guards examined it with deep suspicion but eventually waved him through.

  "Anyone else entering?" the guard asked.

  Reyn looked at the gathering guards, at Puff, at the walls that proclaimed civilization through elevation.

  "We'll camp outside."

  The guard shrugged. "Suit yourself. No camping within a hundred yards of the walls. Stay out of trouble."

  They retreated to a acceptable distance, finding a spot between the road and a small grove that probably had its own ordinance about usage. Other rejected travelers had set up similar camps - a whole community of the insufficiently documented.

  "This happen before?" Reyn asked Puff as they set up camp.

  "Many times. Humans love walls. Love saying who can't come in." He began gathering stones for a fire circle with the patience of geology. "Is okay. Cities too small anyway."

  "Too small?"

  "Ceilings." He shuddered, which was like watching a mountain have opinions. "Why live under ceiling when sky exists?"

  Reyn settled onto a log. "How long do you think Randulph will take?"

  "Long." Puff stood still, only his shoulders slumping as he relaxed. Trolls, seemingly, didn’t lay down. "Tomorrow, minimum."

  "Tomorrow?"

  "You never dealt with permits?"

  As if to prove the point, a guard approached from the walls. Not threateningly, but he was obviously on duty.

  "Camping fee," he announced.

  "We're not within a hundred yards," Reyn pointed out.

  "No, but you're within viewing distance of the walls. That's five copper per night. Ten if you have a fire." He looked at them both. ?One extra for a troll and a Bormecian.?

  "That's—"

  "Rules."

  Reyn paid. The guard nodded without a smile.

  As the sun began setting, painting Crownport's walls gold like an advertisement for itself, they watched merchants and nobles flow in and out of the city. Each entrance was scrutinized. Each exit was noted. The walls stood like a thesis statement: civilization meant keeping things orderly, and order meant keeping certain things out.

  "Stupid walls," Puff said eventually.

  "Stupid policies," Reyn added, looking at the camping fee documentation. She wondered what had happened in the east. At least Rivier would be safe, with Grax guarding the town.

  Turnip emerged from wherever he'd been exploring, carrying what appeared to be someone's coin purse. He deposited it at Reyn's feet with the pride of a breadwinner.

  "Where did you—" Reyn started, then decided she didn't want to know. "Good... rabbid?"

  Turnip chittered.

  Somewhere inside the walls, Randulph was probably standing in a line. Then another line to get permission to stand in the first line. Then filling out forms about why he needed forms.

  Crownport glittered in the growing darkness, all lights and prosperity and the absolute certainty that it was better than everywhere else.

  "I give three hours," Puff said.

  "Before Randulph returns?" Reyn asked. ?I thought you said a day.

  "Before he gives up and tries bribery."

  "Two hours," Reyn countered.

  They sat around their officially documented fire, an unlikely duo kept out by policies that thought they were protecting something worth protecting against hazards based on little more than ?someone said…?

  "Is very strange quest," Puff said, giving Turnip a quick glance. "Good. Strange more interesting than normal."

  The walls loomed above them, white stone turned amber by sunset, beautiful and forbidding and absolutely convinced of their own necessity it seemed.

  Reyn put her hands behind her head and leaned back. Tonight, they had stars, which didn't require documentation or taxes to enjoy.