As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, the path finally began to narrow and enter a small valley, forcing the party into a long line, three men wide. Torrhen was between Tyrion and Renly, while Bronn, Ser Rodrik and Ser Willis were placed ahead of them and at the front rode his mother with Ser Donnel and his squire. The minstrel, thankfully, was much further back.
“How much further do we have to travel? Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but I find myself losing feeling in my legs and would like to dismount at our destination with some dignity.” Tyrion asked, visibly grimacing after spending so much time in the saddle over so much rough terrain.
“Not much farther, my lord.” Ser Donnel replied with authority. “The Bloody Gate is just up ahead.” Then, as the party rounded a wide corner and true to Ser Donnel’s word, the Bloody Gate came into view. While not impressive to the eyes, the squat fortification was well placed. Any arm