"Thank you, I think. Just one more thing," he said, "this Commander Morvus, what does he look like? I should hate to run into him and not give him his due."

"He's a rather tall individual," she replied, "you can't miss him. He has black hair and a distinct scar on his face." She ran a finger down the left side of her face to illustrate.

"Thank you," he said again, "I shall keep an eye out for him."

She continued on her way, and he turned back to the harbour gate, which stood wide open, two Temple Knights standing guard in their distinctive grey tabards. Resuming his walk, he entered, the knights paying him scant notice.

As Cyric passed into the courtyard, the smell of horses drew his attention to the stables on his right where several Temple Knights of Saint Cunar were mounting up, no doubt heading into the city itself to begin their patrol. He gave them a wide berth, moving westward to then turn south towards the inner gate and the Chancellery that lay beyond. He passed by the armoury on his right, the sound of smiths at work echoing through the courtyard, while to his left sat the massive barracks that held all the knights stationed here, save for the sisters. They, alone, were housed past the inner gate. The barracks was a full three stories, its top even higher than the wall it backed onto. This allowed the rooftop to form a place of observation, for it gave a clear view of the harbour below.

The Temple Knights of Saint Mathew were a humble order, with rules to match. It would be unthinkable for a commander of such a force to live in luxury while his brethren slept in small cells, but the Cunars apparently had no such qualms. Their leaders lived in relative splendour, each with an office, living room and bedroom, or so he was lead to believe. Certainly, the officers quarters here appeared extravagant, at least to Cyric's mind.

At the Inner Gate stood two more guards and, upon his approach, he was motioned to halt.

"State your business, Brother," said one of them.

"I am Brother Cyric, Temple Knight of Saint Mathew," he replied. "I am here to see the Archprior of my order."

"Is he expecting you?" asked the guard.

"He is," said Cyric, "I sent word early this morning."

The guard turned to his companion, who referenced a book that sat nearby.

"He's here," replied the other guard, "you can let him through."

"Go in peace, Brother," said the first, "and may the Saints go with you."

"And with you," replied Cyric.