Go Alone

The Draken envoy moved through the dense, shadowed forests of Valeria with an air of calculated confidence. Six riders in total, their mounts expertly guided along the uneven terrain, their heavy cloaks shielding them from the biting wind. WIthing the carriage rode Envoy Marek Valtor, a seasoned diplomat with sharp eyes and sharper instincts. 

Two guards flanked a covered carriage carrying their most precious cargo: letters, artifacts, and a prepared dossier—evidence that could dismantle Sylas Valerian's ambitions in an instant. 

Marek turned to glance at the carriage, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "The Valerian court will be in disarray the moment this reaches the Emperor," he said, his voice carrying just enough volume to be heard by the others. 

One of the guards snorted. "You make it sound too easy, Valtor. We're still in enemy territory."