The City of Chieri
The cool breeze and the brief relief from the oppression of the Summer's heat brought with it a cooling mist. Not a true rain but persistent enough to leave a pleasant moisture that left one cool and refreshed. The worn interlocked path leading to the Villa slowly darkening as the stone and soil beneath gradually grew damp with each barely scene droplet.
The clatter of Marengo's hooves upon that very stone forming a rhythmic cacophony that slowly wormed into the mind and banished thoughts of tomorrow and fate with the abandon of the moment. A small thing but one that made it easy to bear the burden of fading fortune and strange new truths of the self.
Along the way the usual medley of travelers, splendid and otherwise, wandered into the bustling heart of Chieri.
Steadily and hardly slowly, the features of the city slowly consumed the landscape until Alessandro found him in the bustling, ever beating hearts of commerce that defined the public squares. The grand marble structures of Merchant Company Offices, Banks, and sundry places of Business rose up all around him with the humbler plaster and wood that catered to those not blessed with the free flow of gold and goods. All painted in bright and bold colours that spoke to an energetic and vibrant culture. The scents of varied spices, food, and drink upon that cool summer's breeze, burdened further by the lively language of the people ever engaged in trade. Storm nor drizzle slowing commerce for even an instant.
The foreigners who had sailed or rode from far away as evident as a nail not struck flush with the wall. Their clothes, as often as not, drab in comparison to the favoured riot of colour that spoke to the lively spirit of Vissio's people. Their accents and manners just that much more so yet they were as welcome as any so long as the coin was minted of precious medal and bore up to the discerning eye of a Master Minter.
It was by necessity that Marengo's lively gait had to be reined in as the press of men and women became all but unavoidable. Fortunately, both horse and rider new the way well to the square of Champions that rested at the heart of the city. Named for the unusual confluence of fate that saw a dozen rival dueling academies rise up within perilous distance of each other. The discourses between them all a matter of local legend and, occasionally, regrettable history. Gentlemen, after all, when impassioned could fall to the most uncivil of conduct.