Floren Winters

It was the harvest festival that came in September. This holiday did not have any weight among the nobility, so the nobles celebrated it like everyone else or did not celebrate it at all. But what about the peasants? It's much more fun here. Fairs, performances by traveling artists, ordinary folk dances and songs. But in the evening the tradition of setting fires begins, and then jumping over the fire. Happy holiday, nice ones. Floren, or the captain of the Royal Guard, was walking through the crowded streets with his comrades and colleagues. This was one of the few occasions when members of the guard were allowed to walk the streets of the city just like that, without a purpose.

"Well, comrades, that's it, every man for himself. I'll join you in the pub in the evening!"

With a wave of his hand, Floren continued his walk. So many different smells: bakin and the like. At one point, something crashed into the captain’s back. And then came the apologetic voice of... Ella?