It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Yasha Nydoorin, a half-angel barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The next morning, they continue through the Quannah Breach in the Dunrock Mountains at the northern border of the Dwendalian Empire. They reach the gate run by the Uteloch family of the tribes.
DM: As you guys continue your trek northward for the next day, you slowly push forward and watch as the rolling hills of this northern valley begin to even out. The high grasses growing dense and dusted with snow in the wake of this snowstorm that has passed through the night. It's now this beautiful, ice topped wonderland before you. As the storm is past, breaks in the clouds begin to slowly emerge and show you glimmers of blue in the sky. With sunlight comes a welcome comparative warmth, and this dusted field of diamonds begins to slowly thaw over the midday's journey. The looming peaks of the Dunrock mountain range approach closer, engulfing your horizon almost like a toothy jaw of some ancient titan that surrounds your peripheral. You can make out, as you get closer, the craggy break in the mountains ahead, familiar to you. It's like a spiral fracture of a bone, where suddenly what was once a solid mountain range seems to have torn and sundered into two separate ravines that seem to share a similar shape. This you recognize as the Quannah Breach. You guys begin to approach, by mid to late afternoon, the front of the breach, where you can see six crownsguard in a small outpost built at the base of the Quannah Breach. These, as you know, are usually folks that essentially warn people from traveling into the Breach, and if they do, let them know that any return is going to be probably highly searched and highly inquired. They enforce it, unless you slip them some coin. Then it's not an issue on the way back. They're more there to make money.
Player: For appearances, yeah.
DM: As you approach, familiar to you, a crownsguard begins to put a hand up to the approaching horses and say, "Hail!"
Player: Oh, goddamn it.
DM: "Where are you traveling to?"
Player: Shadycreek.
DM: "You have business in these cursed lands?"
Player: Yeah, we're trying to get fucked. Can we move along?
DM: "Well, your life is your own, as is your business, but you must understand that coming back is no easy task. A thorough search and inquiry into your person will be required--"
Player: Yeah, blah, blah, blah. Can I give you a couple of coins and you let us on our way, please?
DM: "Very well." How much do you give him?
Player: How little will he take?
DM: Customary to your experience and the times that you've traveled with the Iron Shepherds, it's usually about two gold to just pass.
Player: Okay, yeah.
DM: He takes it and quietly lets you pass. Per person.
