The morning had come to Dotterm. Numisley, Cultrost, Palden, Palvt, and Graten were sitting on one of the tables in the mezzanine, while the rest of the Severed Swords were eating breakfast on the bottom floor.

“Give me a list of your Severed Swords. Their names and Levels.” Numisley asked Graten. The [Sword Captain] handed him a list of his men.

“I’ll tell you about my plan for the company,” Numisley announced. “I heard from below with my [Find Rumor] Feat earlier that there’s an upcoming war between Tucken and Joltstown. The Thunderous March [Mercenaries] that owns the city-state will fight against Tucken’s own standing army and their allied Gahkee Tribe in the Yokelaines, so this might be our company’s first opportunity. What do you think we will sell?”

“Armor and weapons?” Graten answered.

“It’s a given,” Numisley stated. “We’ll buy a wagonful of those later when we visit a few workshops.”

“Rations, potions, and kegs too.” Cultrost helpfully suggested.

“Good idea. We’ll buy it in bulk from Merchant’s Guild.” Numisley accepted. “In the long run, I plan for our caravan to head for the port cities of the Diamondshore Conglomerate, so that we can both make a profit and head to Yhril.”

“I thought you refused to run away to Yhril?” Cultrost asked Numisley, perplexed.

“I never said that.” Numisley corrected. “I refuse to do nothing with the information we have. Rather, my goal for the long run is to set up our business in Yhril, in the Golden Triangle region exactly, which is arguably safer than this continent, and we can profit more there. I guess we can visit our relatives in the future too...”

“What do we have to offer that the [Merchant Lords] of the Golden Triangle’s ports that they have not?” Palden was concerned. As far as he knows, the Golden Triangle sits at the center of the Six Lands; the known world, where all trade from the rest of the world comes and goes, and the Golden Gate Alliance of trader-island nations is a world power of their own.

“This.” Numisley raised the black notebook on the table for a second before stashing it inside.”We have information worth more than the Twin Roads of Prosperity. Information, as much as gold passes through the center of the world. The goods that we sell will be our front.”

“But, it will be difficult. The [Merchants] of those islands can as cutthroat as even Liberan’s Five Corporations. We might get thrown off the plank if they caught a whiff against their skiffs.” Palden objected.

“That’s why we earn our way through the Exiled Coasts and earn Levels. We will sell our wares to both Joltstown’s [Mercenaries] and Tucken’s. But, we will sojourn in the city of Tucken itself. I plan to hire Jodas and his gang.

“Isn’t he a Hand?” Graten asked, uttering a slang from the criminal underworld. “At least around Gold rank?”

“Yes. I need a sword along with my shield.” Numisley answered.

“What do you mean?” The [Sword Captain] asked.

“I’m rebuilding my father’s company. Your Severed Swords are my shield, and when I hire these criminals, they will be my sword for my future plans. They can do what [Mercenaries] couldn’t in that continent.”

“Which is?”

“Steal, and kill if they need to. Criminals have Feats that can evade capture and obscure their own identity, as well as tricks of their own. His gang is a faction among the city of Tucken, so the [Mayor] will be grateful to me when I pull them out.”

“Ah,” Cultrost uttered. Although he was smart in his own way, he cannot think five steps away unlike his brother. “So, you are going to put him in your debt.”

“Of course.” Numisley smiled.

-

They headed towards the Bank of Dotterm, the headquarters of the Cemoorstead Merchant’s Guild. At this time of day, they were many [Merchants] sitting on their lounges, making deals and shaking hands.

One such deal was between Numisley and another man of dark skin, a mark of the people of the Southern Bottoms of the continent. The [Merchant] of the Cemoorstead Guild wore the simple keffiyeh of his town with pride, as he smiled and shook Numisley’s hand.

“Ali Iwrif. [Merchant] of Cemoorstead, pleased to do business with you." They both sat after introducing themselves.

“Numisley Gildin. This is my brother, Cultrost Gildin.” He nodded to his brother and turned his attention back to the other [Merchant]. We are of Gildin Trading.”

“Isn’t Gildin Trading of Renimburg? I heard the town was invaded by Belias. My condolences.”

“Happens.” Numisley dismissed.

“Isn’t your company part of Maldent Trading?”

“Not anymore. I will rebuild my father’s legacy from the ground up.”

“I see…” Ali took note of this information, because typically if a subsidiary company seceded from the larger company, it will not be taken well by the larger company. He smiled deviously, already laying down a trap.

"I'll purchase forty brigandines, ten bundles of spears, two dozen bags of grain, six crates of low-grade healing and stamina potions, and at least ten kegs of beer.” Numisley steered the conversation back to business.

“[Traders] like you already know the upcoming battle between Tucken and Joltstown in the Yokelaine Plains caused by the dispute over the salt flats next to it. Those [Traders] with the fastest Feats had already left their cities to capitalize on it, so the prices had risen up.” Ali informed.

“That’s why I’ll be as early as I can. How much?”

“Twenty-eight gold coins and five silver.”

“[Recall Value]. Isn’t a sack of grain ten silver?”

“That was before the coming of winter. The failed harvests of my city of Sobor, Eilizenth, and Tiller had driven the price up. Keres hoarded their grain for the coming winter and refused to sell it to the cities of the Varstead Alliance after they raised the price of metal and lumber.”

“Ah, inter-city disputes...”Cultrost mouthed weakly.

“So with these issues, the price of grain is raised to 18 silver per sack.” Ali continued.

“I see.” Numisley held a pouch of 28 gold, hovering on the table. “Before that, how long will my order be processed?”

“Within today or tomorrow.” Ali clarified. “If there’s no surplus among the Guild’s stock, then we shall prevail on our [Smiths] and other providers of the city to get what you need, and it will take much longer.”

The pouch was placed on the table with the delightful clink of the coins.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Numisley held out his hand, and Ali shook it. Numisley left the bank with his brother and headed towards the inn.

Ali strode through the inner parts of the keep and ordered a [Manager] to accomplish Numisley’s request. She rushed towards where she is supposed to be and ordered the employees out of earshot as Ali faded into the stairway that leads to the upper floors, where the main offices of the Guild are. He sat on his cushioned chair in front of his desk, writing a brief message on a piece of paper.

“[Summon Subordinate].”

A young Lizardboy had entered his office, clutching a leather satchel as he were called upon in the middle of running errands.

“Sir?”

“Send this to Maldent Trading.”

-

The next day, their order was processed. The bulk of goods was being hauled on the two new wagons being pulled by draft horses within the bazaar. Many people were within the bazaar, buying various trinkets and food. One portly man ate his baguette, meat with chilies as well as cheese within as he watched Numisley boarding the wagons, talking with Ali Iwrif, one of the richest [Merchants] in the city.

“Fortune to you.” Ali bade farewell to Numisley after he brought the two wagons.

“Earn well,” Numisley replied.

The caravan left the city of Dotterm and they headed east. The sky was dimmer now, for winter is near. The breeze that swept through the dark grass was frigid. Numisley was grateful that he bought a specially thick grey fur coat that goes well with his maple wood cane.

“Cold.” Numisley shivered. “Can we activate the heat charms?”

“Numis, we’ll save it for actual winters.” Cultrost chided.

“Damn…” Numisley was shivering ever since this morning because of the cold, even with his coat.

The caravan had stopped on a bare stone foundation as wide as three houses, covered in dirt and dry leaves. Not even the tiles were spared from scavengers that shaved them off as well as the pillars that were shattered for quarrying. They temporarily rest the horses before setting off again. The rest of the group was guarding the perimeter of the caravan.Numisley walked with Cultrost and Palvt nearby the caravan. They had climbed on an elevated spot so that they could see the way ahead. Palvt enchanted their eyes with [Eagle’s Eye] so they could see farther. There is a path within a small forest that leads to the city on the horizon, before the black border. They saw the city-state of Joltstown within bare plains that were dotted by bunches of trees and ruined stone that was cities and monuments from an age forgotten by most. The plains, valleys, and forests, as well as the prairies and deserts of the continent, remain untamed outside of the continent’s city-states, even with the few still standing original palaces and megapolises built when the Eight Exiles reigned over the original colonies millennia ago. Monsters, disasters, and war between companies and Satyr tribes prevented the land from being tamed.

“There’s a group of monsters over there.” Cultrost pointed towards a herd of roaming beasts near the path, stalking within the trees.

“There’s a fork, so let’s go left.” Palvt pointed at a fork in the path, almost hidden by a bunch of dying trees. Standing within the decaying trees was an unassuming portly man that blended within the dead bark, drawing a sturdy bow with tripled strength, aiming at them with bated breath. One can mistake that his paunchy figure was a sign of gluttony, but the fat thinly covers his muscles that can pull a bow with a draw weight equal to a bear’s mass behind it.

“It’s the longer path. But it’s better than being attacked by monsters.” Numisley decided. His foot hit a rock embedded in the soil, but before he fell to the ground, Palvt caught him. There was a terrible whistle in the air, then a dread splutter of blood and flesh. Bits of flesh on the ground was drying into stone, The hole on Palvt’s stomach and shattered spine was petrified, and his body was slowly turning into stone; the nature of their half-stone flesh as they die and age. The arrow dug itself into the ground, with only the fletching sticking up in the air.

Sometimes, despite one’s Level, one can be felled by bad luck. Palvt had sought adventure all this time, so that is why he followed Numisley and his father because he knew that they will be swamped in troubles and intrigue, and Palvt would add it to his memoirs to tell himself that he had truly lived. Yet as he caught Numisley, he had no time to cast a barrier spell, and the Feat-empowered arrow had pierced the passive magic barrier around his body that Palvt always activated all the time and the stone-like sturdy flesh of Dwarves. He always thought that he would die in a great battle in the shadows, but Palvt's dying, petrifying body didn’t give him the courtesy of uttering his final words. Numisley retreated to the ground, pulling his body away. Palvt became a statue within seconds upon his death, as his staff fell to the ground.

Cultrost bawled in shock and grief as he lifted Numisley on his back. In a hurry, Numisley grabbed Palvt’s magic staff instead of his walking cane. He rode on Cultrost's back like they always do when they were in danger and they ran towards the caravan.

-

“What?” Graten stared at them.

Cultrost explained the situation to Graten as he lifted Numisley into one of the wagons. Palden already manned the lead wagon and used their Feat to accelerate through the dirt road; the others were already scrambling to hop on the wagons. Instantly, they were rushing towards the fork in the road.

“Left!” Numisley ordered. Palden felt his hands steering the horses before he voiced his objections. They steered left on the fork of the road and sped up, but Palden’s horses suddenly went down and the wagon came tumbling down, hitting a tree. The horses had broken their legs after tripping over a taut rope on the ground with ends that were tied to especially thick trees.

Numisley tried to crawl out but an arrow had pierced one of the horses’ heads with a resounding crack of the skull and the impact on the ground, and he recoiled back to the wagon. Already, they knew that they were being attacked.

“Stay back.” Cultrost held a shield in his hand, along with his mace. He stayed within the wagon as the others took cover behind the remaining wagons. The arrows had pierced the canvas wagons, and they do not know how many [Archers] were hidden among the trees for now.

Graten listened to the whistling arrows, and he noticed that the arrows were less in number than expected based on how less frequent they were. He realized that there’s only one [Archer] targeting them. Most likely, he had [Piercing Arrows]. Once he saw that the arrows didn’t pierce the wagon as much as they initially did, Graten hopped out of the wagon.

“Men and women! [Fireball] that location!” Graten ordered as he used one of his Feats from his [Watcher] Role that helped him approximate where the ambusher is. “Josaif, Tarast, Gedge, Weriens, Cultrost, with me.”

Cultrost was accompanying Graten and a few of the higher-leveled of the Severed Swords as the others used Wands of Fireball to bombard the location. They can’t see exactly where was the attackers, but after that volley, they charged toward the position. There were no traces of the mysterious attacker among the smoldering crater from their [Fireball]. Graten sensed something amiss, with the help of his passive Feats and experience. The [Archer Assassin] was standing still among the bushes a few paces past them, hidden by a high-level camouflage Feat. He was sure that the blonde man leading them had an anti-Stealth Role or Class because he sensed that a Feat was searching for him, but as long as he doesn’t do anything drastic, he can evade him. He was only hired to test out their defenses, as well as eliminate the highest-level person in the group, and see how good the people guarding the caravan are so that the others will know how to steal the notebook or capture the young man leading them. He will report his findings within the day.

“The attacker must’ve been alone. He or she must’ve run away.” Graten announced although he knew that it isn’t safe here on the roads. “Let’s keep the caravan going.”

As they were out of view, the people of the caravan left the upturned wagon and transported the important cargo in the other wagons, and the dead horses had their heads beheaded so that they wouldn’t turn into undead. Most of their injuries were treated with a healing potion, but some needed more treatment that a healing potion alone can’t solve. They didn’t have time to butcher the horses for food, so they left as soon as possible. Throughout the whole trip, they were vigilant against another attack, but strangely, nothing had happened. The [Assassin] already left them alone. With a Scroll of Messages, he contacted his employer and wrote a report.

The tense calm of traveling among potentially dangerous roads had given time for Cultrost to grieve silently. Palvt and the others people in Jascias’ employ back in the manor had died to pave Numisley’s path. The Satyr stared at Numisley, and he saw that he didn’t even look back, only staring at the path ahead of him.