Faliure and Doubt

There were two guards stationed at the gate. As we approached, they seemed surprised by our arrival, both looking at each other in confusion. They hadn't been expecting visitors this early in the day.

"What brings you here?" the one to the left called out. He was a short, pudgy man who seemed to barely fit into his armor.

The one on the right, a tall, muscular man, put one hand over the sword that rested by his side.

"We are looking for a doctor," Sir Michael said. "My son here was a victim of the demons that appeared in Lahore."

The men's eyes sharply turned to me, surprised to see bandages wrapped across my head and arms. I tried my best to look exhusted and battered up, hoping they wouldn't ask us any more questions and let us pass through. Sure enough, it did. They nodded to Sir Michael and swung open the gates, letting us in.