The duchess's castle.

This noble lady's court seems to be the nearest city, so you decide to travel there. The three women have told you to simply follow the road northwards. As you adhere to their advice, walking along until the sun stands high in the blue sky, other mudroads merge with yours to form a broader path.

You start to see some fellow travellers: Peasants on the way to their fields, merchants on wagons loaded with goods, wanderers in worn cloaks. They all look as if taken from a movie about knights and dragons. So if you haven't stumbled onto a really elaborate film set, this world isn't yours anymore.

And then there's this curious fact that most people you see ... are women. Only occasionally, a male craftsman or merchant crosses your path, politely nodding towards you. With nothing else to do, you ponder about this. Is there maybe a war going on and most men have left to fight? But as you draw closer to your destination, traversing through minor settlements, your thesis gets debunked: A patrol marches past you, a dozen guards in shining armor, wielding pointy halberds. And at least three quarters of them, their lack of facial hair leaving few doubts, are women.

As the evening colours the sky in bright red, you reach the duchess's court. The imposing city walls can be seen from afar. The road leads towards the main gates, where there is quite some traffic into and out of the city. Two guards watch over the travellers, carts, and animals crissing the treshold. Both wear impressive uniforms, reminding you of ancient centurions. But whereas a Roman officer's chestplate usually resembles well-toned abs and a muscular chest, these guards' armor has other stylised anatomical features. Shining breasts of polished metal bulge into the world, topped by perky iron knobs. You wonder wether these features resemble their wearers' actual assets—because again, these soldiers are female.