Elturel was a rising city on the banks of the Chionthar River, a Sword Coast city-state founded only a few years earlier. It served as a center of trade and agriculture upstream from Baldur's Gate. Fertile fields and waterwheels dotted the countryside, with farming estates one after another. Huge windmills pumped water from the Chionthar's tributaries, their tall frames and manor houses arranged in orderly tiers up the rolling hills.
Here, the Chionthar had already reached its lower-middle course, and its current ran fairly swiftly. Ships bound for Baldur's Gate had to wait for passage.
The Tzeentch Sky-Chariot had crashed into a thicket. Before long, a group of fully armed soldiers rode over. Their leader was clearly a formidable knight. From his opening sword stance and the way he handled his warhorse alone, Aaron could tell that he had received extensive military training since childhood.
Hellriders.
Aaron silently repeated the name Eleanor had mentioned.
The city-state of Elturel had its origins in the Hellriders. Their name came from the descent of a Mount Celestia angel. She had saved the nearby villages and led the soldiers willing to follow her into Hell. Those fortunate enough to return were thereafter called Hellriders. Their leader, Delt, a devout member of the Helmite Watch, had then founded Elturel.
"Hey, you!" The approaching Hellrider wore an exquisite suit of mithral chain mail, with a sun-and-crescent emblem on his breastplate. He looked fairly young, with classic blond hair and blue eyes. "Are you all right? I saw you fall out of the sky. Do you need help?"
"We're fine," Aaron replied out of habit. "Thank you. Where are we?"
Hearing that Aaron was fine, the Hellrider immediately changed his expression and declared proudly, "Then welcome to Elturel, a sacred city. The toll is five gold pieces