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It is late afternoon when you catch your first breath-taking glimpse of Varetta. Built on a massive plateau, this city has stood since time immemorial. The walls and buildings are immense, constructed from blood-red rock and crowded together in complicated splendour. Great stone dragons writhe along the battlements, their coiled tails entangling the gatehouses and portals of the outer wall, and spirals of smoke rise from the mouths of angry-faced gargoyles, crouching like spies on top of the roofs and towers that fill the sky.

The sun has set by the time you reach the east gate. The red-coated guards offer no challenge, and you pass into the wide streets of this magnificent city, to arrive eventually at a quadrangle. A pillar of red stone indicates the names of the streets that lead away from the square.

If you wish to go north into Helin Way, turn to 79.

If you wish to go west into Coachcourse, turn to 135.

If you wish to go south into Flute Street, turn to 147.

If you decide to go east, along the street down which you have just ridden, turn to 238.