You scan the fields in front of you from atop your white horse. So this is the great Lowas, is it? These flat fields and lakes, and according to the locals, near perpetual gloomy, windy weather. No matter. It is a strong kingdom, and along with your recent conquest of Locas, it will be the foundation for your empire.

You left behind one of your trusted followers as regent. He will take care of things in Locas while you are busy ruling from Lowas. As soon as you get to the palace, you intend to capture the twin rulers and get the monarch's ring from whichever of them has it. The tradition of this land says that whoever wears that ring is ruler; you are determined that before tomorrow's nightfall, that will be you.

"Lord Eridan, sir!" one of your followers says as he comes up beside you.

"thats [rince eridan," you snarl at him.

"Y-yes, your majesty!" he stutters.

"wwhat did you wwant"

"Th-the royal capital is in sight, y-your princeliness!" You would have to work on proper terminology for these ruffians.

You look ahead of you at the towers on the horizen. Even in this dim, rain-filled gloom, the tops of the towers sparkle.

"the prize drawws near..." you say quietly, and kick your horse forward with a yell.