The following two weeks passed by quickly. He traveled in a zigzag pattern, gathering intelligence in as many towns and villages as he could. He didn't get much more than the same old stories his grandfather had told him before. Esterford, the closest town to the mist, was now finally within his reach. The main road splits into two directions, one towards Ignis and the other towards Cinis.

It was a cold and dreary evening as the man pushed open the heavy wooden door of the old tavern. The warm glow of the fire in the hearth immediately caught his attention, and he made his way towards it, taking off his dripping cloak and hanging it on a hook near the door.

The tavern was bustling with activity, as people from all walks of life gathered to escape the harsh rainy weather and share a drink or two. The man scanned the room, taking in the sights and sounds of the place. A group of bards were playing lively tunes in the corner, while a group of merchants huddled around a table, deep in conversation.

As the man approached the bar, he was greeted by the friendly proprietor, who offered him a mug of ale. The man accepted gratefully, taking a long sip of the warm, frothy drink. As he settled into a seat by the fire, he couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging in this cozy, welcoming establishment.

Raven sat at a small table in the corner, nursing a mug of ale as he listened to the merchant's tales of the road.

"It's not safe out there," he said, shaking his head. "Bandits and highwaymen lurk around every corner, and the king's men are nowhere to be found when you need them."

Raven nodded sympathetically, understanding all too well the dangers of travel. During his investigations these last days, he often found herself braving treacherous paths and dealing with all manner of unsavory characters.

"I've lost count of how many times I've had to draw my sword to defend myself and my goods," the merchant continued. "And the worst part is, there's no one to turn to for justice. The guilds are corrupt, and the law is for sale to the highest bidder."

Raven sighed, knowing that the merchant had spoken the truth. It was a harsh world, and one had to be constantly on guard to survive. Only these last few days, did he realize how safe the area around the capital was in comparison.

The merchant leaned in closer to Raven, his eyes filled with determination.

"I know it's risky, but I can't afford to waste any more time on the road," he said. "I've heard rumors of a shortcut through the mist, a secret path that can cut days off of the journey. I've got to get to my destination as quickly as possible, and I'm willing to take the risk."

Raven raised an eyebrow, intrigued but wary. He had told the merchant the tales he had heard of the mist before—a mysterious, swirling fog that seemed to appear out of nowhere and swallow up anyone who ventured into it. No one knew what lay beyond the mist, and those who had ventured into it never returned.

"I don't know, merchant," Raven said finally, shaking his head. "That sounds like a risky proposition. No one knows what's waiting for us in the mist."

The merchant shrugged. "I understand the dangers, but I have to try. I can't afford to waste any more time. If I don't make it to my destination on time, I'll lose everything."

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Raven sighed, considering his words. He knew the merchant was in a difficult position, and he couldn't fault him for wanting to take the shortest route possible. The thought of venturing into the unknown was terrifying, yet he was willing to take the risk. But Raven still had reservations about bringing others with him.

"I'll think about it," he said. "But I can't make any promises. The mist is a dangerous place, and I don't want to risk my life without good reason."

The merchant nodded, understanding. "I appreciate your caution," he said. "I'll leave the final decision up to you. But please, consider it. It could mean the difference between success and failure for me."

Raven raised his mug. "To a safer road," he said, before taking a long drink.

And so the two travelers sat in the warm, cozy tavern, sharing their stories and their hopes for a better future. Until the tavern fell silent.

As Raven and the merchant were deep in conversation, the door to the tavern burst open, and a group of rough-looking men stormed in. They were a raucous bunch, with long hair and beards, and they wore the colors of the free company.

As they made their way to the bar, the other patrons in the tavern fell silent, eyeing the newcomers warily. The proprietor tried to calm the men down, but they were in no mood to listen.

"We want ale, and we want it now!" one of the mercenaries bellowed, slamming his fist on the bar.

The proprietor hesitated, clearly wary of the men. But he knew better than to anger a group of heavily armed mercenaries, so he quickly set about filling their mugs.

As the free company drank and laughed, Raven and the merchant tried to keep their heads down, hoping to avoid drawing attention to themselves. But it was only a matter of time before the mercenaries noticed them sitting in the corner.

"Hey, what are you two doing here?" One of the men called out, staggering over to Raven and the merchant's table. "This ain't no place for the likes of you. Get out of here before we make you regret it."

Raven stood up, his hand instinctively going to the handle of his cane. He knew he couldn't back down in the face of these brutes, no matter how dangerous they were.

"We're just passing through, looking for a warm place to rest for the night," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "We mean no harm."

The mercenary sneered at him, clearly not believing her words. "Well, you'd better get out of here before we decide to cause some harm," he said, drawing his own sword.

Raven knew he couldn't win a fight against the entire free company, but he also knew he couldn't back down. It was a tense standoff, and it seemed that the fate of the two travelers hung in the balance.

As the confrontation between Raven and the free company escalated, it seemed that violence was inevitable. But just as tensions reached their peak, the merchant stepped in, his voice calm and measured.

"Gentlemen, please," he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "There's no need for this. I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement."

The leader of the free company sneered at the merchant, but there was a glint of greed in his eye. "What do you have in mind, old man?" he asked.

The merchant, whose name was William, reached into his pocket and withdrew a small bag of gold coins. "I'm willing to pay for our safe passage out of here," he said, holding the bag out to the mercenary.

The leader of the free company hesitated for a moment, but the lure of easy money was too much to resist. He grabbed the bag and counted the coins, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

"Very well," he said, pocketing the gold. "You can go. But don't let me catch you in these parts again, or you won't be so lucky."

William grabbed Raven by the arm and pulled him out of the tavern, not wanting to waste any more time in the presence of the dangerous mercenaries. As they stumbled out into the cold night air, Raven couldn't believe what had just happened.

"Thank you, William," he said, turning to the merchant. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't stepped in."William waved his hand dismissively. "It was nothing," he said. "But we need to get out of here as quickly as possible. Those men aren't to be trusted, and I don't want to be around when they realize they've been cheated." Raven raised an eyebrow. The merchant coughed: "I also deal with counterfeit money, I hope you keep this a secret among merchants. We don't want to be dragged into the arena, do we?" William winked at him.

And so, the two travelers set off into the night, grateful to have escaped the dangers of the tavern and the clutches of the free company.