Arriving at your destination.

Some hours later, you're being shaken awake by Daena. Despite having been out in the elements all night, standing watch with her crossbow while the two of you slumbered in the tent, she looks scarcely the worse for wear.

"Think she's nervous, that I intend to poach her place, Donald." You say with a wicked smile, elbowing the redheaded royalty behind you.

"Spirits, if only..." Donald moans.

-

Within half an hour, you've packed up the camp, and are on Donald's horse once more, prepared to complete your little sojourn.

"Edward, I'd like ta apologise for what happened last night." Donald begins, as you trot once more down the road.

This should be good, you think to yourself.

"I've never known marauders to roam the highways up here. They're protected, see?" Donald explains.

"No harm came from it. To us, at least." You respond.

"Aye. I expect the vultures back that way are in for a treat, though!" Donald chuckles.

-

You ride for a few hours more, before arriving at a great stone face, a cavern winding inside, two great blazing torches planted in the earth on either side. Donald and Daena dismount and hitch the horses. Donald pulls a torch from his horse's pack and lights it off one of the stationary torches.

"In here, Edward!" Donald grins, beckoning you with the flame. As you follow Donald and his elf in, you gradually begin to hear the sound of softly flowing water.

"What is this place?" You ask, pushing yourself to keep up with them.

"You remember I told you the roads around here are protected? You're about to meet their protectors." Donald says. As you get further from the entrance, the sound of water intensifies, indistinct voices from ahead gradually joining the cacophony.

"Hmph. We rode all this way to come to a guard barracks?" You ask.

"I don't know, Edward." Donald begins, as you round a bend in the tunnel. "Do these look like your average guardsmen?"

The tunnel has opened up into a massive natural chamber. Dozens mill around inside, it's something between a military encampment and a small village. Scan the figures as you might, you can't spot a single man. No, it seems this entire place is occupied by Beathan warrior women. All leather and fur, facepaint and war tattoos.

To your left, women unwind, wash, stretch and just relax in a series of inviting-looking hot springs. To the right, they train, drink, eat and craft.

It's the kind of sight you've not seen before.

As the three of you are noticed, a small crowd forms around you. The warrior women greet Donald in particular with the requisite adoration their future king deserves.

A particularly dignified woman, Donald's age, beautiful blonde hair, her armour and facepaint worn just so, approaches.

"So, the Unholy Spring plays host to not one royal, but two." she says to you. "We are honoured by your presence, Edward, King of the Itherians. Tell me, your majesty, what do you make of our little warcamp?"