The heavy bell tolled three solemn times from the central tower of Solmere, shattering the early morning mist that still clung to the harbor. The sound echoed far and wide, a proclamation that the strange vessel had officially docked at the ancient stronghold — one of the eastern bulwarks of the Dawn Kingdom.
From the ship's deck, Karl cast his eyes up at the towering stone walls sprawling across the hillside. Flags bearing the emblem of Solmere — a silver sword piercing through a blazing sun — fluttered fiercely in the sea wind. Under the rule of Lord Albrecht Varnhold, Solmere had never once let its guard down against outsiders.
"So this is Solmere, huh?" Molvar muttered, unable to take his eyes off the imposing watchtowers. "Looks a little too serious for my taste."
Karl nodded slightly. "It's a fortress city. No surprise there. We'll need to tread carefully."
The gates of Solmere opened slowly and solemnly. The grinding of chains and gears echoed through the air, like the tolling of a bell heralding great change. Karl stepped forward first, his gaze sweeping across the time-worn stones, clearly sensing the stark difference between the peaceful mountain and this orderly stronghold. Molvar followed, no longer joking as he usually did, his expression serious as he surveyed the surroundings. This was not merely a fortress—it was a center of power.
Before them, guards stood in two straight lines, upright and formal. A man in a silver cloak approached, hand over his chest as he gave a slight bow."Welcome to Solmere. I am Sir Cedric, representing Lord Albrecht Varnhold."
The atmosphere grew momentarily heavy as Karl replied, his voice calm but filled with nuance:"We're not here to wage war—we're here to understand."
Sir Cedric studied Karl for a moment, as if weighing the mysterious traveler before him, then gave a slight nod."Lord Albrecht Varnhold has returned from a council with neighboring representatives, but he requires some time to prepare for tonight's reception. You are welcome to stroll through Solmere, get accustomed to its rhythm. When the sun sets, please come to the grand hall—he will be expecting you."
Karl nodded, his eyes scanning the thick stone walls and the evenly lined gray rooftops."Thank you, Sir Cedric. We won't intrude further."
Molvar, never one to stay serious for too long, leaned toward Karl as they walked and murmured,"Wandering through a rich city like this… who knows, we might stumble into a free gourmet dinner."
Karl gave a faint smile, saying nothing. But his eyes remained fixed on the fluttering flags above—symbols of a new power waiting to be unveiled.
Solmere was unlike any city Molvar had ever seen. The buildings bore the old Western style, crafted from ivory-white stone that glimmered beneath the late afternoon sun. Each arched window was adorned with vibrant flower pots, and the scent of lavender drifted in the breeze, soothing the senses.
In the distance lay the central square, with a grand fountain carved in the shape of two mirrored phoenixes, clear water cascading endlessly. Children played nearby, street performers strummed lyres and danced with fire, creating a soft, festive air in the heart of the city.
"It's really something," Molvar said, eyes wide as he gazed at the towering bell tower at the end of the street. "I've heard rumors about Solmere, but I didn't expect it to be… this radiant."
Karl remained silent for a moment before replying calmly,"Solmere is the jewel of the Eastern coast. Time may dull many things, but this place… it has kept its soul."
"And that bell?" Molvar pointed at the tower. "I heard it only rings when something important is about to happen."
Karl nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as if recalling a memory."The Bell of Solmere. Legend says… every time it tolls, a new chapter of history begins."
After strolling through the city for a while, Karl paused at the entrance of a narrow alley leading into the old residential district.
"Come on, Molvar," Karl said, his gaze fixed on the weathered cobblestone path. "I know a quiet little inn. I used to stay there… back when I wandered alone."
Molvar raised an eyebrow. "Really? You've stayed in Solmere before?"
Karl nodded. "A long time ago. But if the innkeeper's still there, he might recognize me."
They walked down the alley, now softly lit by lanterns beginning to glow with the approach of evening. Soon, they stopped in front of a two-story building with a wooden sign, its faded letters reading: The Rose Lantern.
Karl smiled faintly. "This is the place."
The wooden door creaked as Karl pushed it open. Inside The Rose Lantern, the space was cozy and warmly lit, the air filled with the faint scent of herbs.
A deep, gruff voice called out from behind the counter:"The door still groans like it's been cursed! Who's there—?"
A short figure stepped out from behind a curtain. It was a dwarf—long silver beard down to his belt, thick leather vest, and a worn apron. His eyes widened when he saw Karl.
"By the Forge! Is that… Karl? Karl with the bird's nest hair, is it really you?!"
Karl smiled and gave a small nod. "Still remember me, old Brugg?"
Brugg burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room. He marched forward and gave Karl's stomach a playful punch with his pudgy fist."You dare return without so much as a letter? Youngsters these days only know how to pour ale, not keep promises! Come, come! I still keep the upstairs room just as it was!"
Molvar leaned toward Karl, whispering, "That's… the innkeeper?"
"Yep," Karl replied with a grin. "Gruff dwarf, but a good heart."
The wooden stairs creaked with every step as Karl and Molvar followed old Brugg up to the second floor. Along the hallway, the soft glow from small windows cast warm slivers of light across the dusty floorboards, and the scent of aged wood brought a wave of old memories flooding back to Karl.
Brugg stopped at the last door and pushed it open."Room Seven. Just like before. Never let anyone else rent it out, don't know why. Maybe I always thought… you'd come back."
Karl looked inside—a modest, clean room. The window still faced south, offering a view of the red-tiled rooftops nearby. A simple wooden bed sat in the corner, thick blankets neatly folded. A small wooden chair by the desk still bore the faint scorch mark from the candle Karl had dropped years ago.
"Thank you, Brugg," Karl said softly.
Brugg nodded, then turned to Molvar. "You'll be next door. Don't worry, the walls are thick—if you snore, he won't hear a thing."
Molvar chuckled. "I don't snore!"
"Then I do," Brugg winked and lumbered back downstairs.
Karl dropped his pack and sat heavily on the bed."Maybe… it really has been too long," he murmured.
Molvar leaned against the doorframe. "How long did you stay here?"
Karl gazed out the window. "Not long. But long enough to remember."
Nightfall slowly settled over Solmere, casting the city in hues of deep violet. Oil lanterns lit the cobbled streets, their warm glow dancing along the weathered stone walls. From the central square, the bell tolled—slow and solemn—reminding all that the city still lived, quietly enduring through the ages.
Karl stood at the window, watching thin wisps of smoke rise from chimney tops. Though Solmere had changed, something remained—the steady heartbeat of memories beneath the surface.
Behind him, Molvar stretched with a yawn. "Didn't peg you as the sentimental type."
Karl smiled without turning. "Not sentimental… just—some places mean something."
A soft knock interrupted the moment.
"Gentlemen," came Brugg's voice from beyond the door, "Sir Cedric is ready to receive you. He awaits in the southern hall."
Karl took a deep breath and turned, nodding at Molvar."Let's go. We've got a long night ahead."
Outside, the bell of Solmere continued to toll—like a promise… or a warning.