We continued through the outskirts of Kyrekeep largely undisturbed. The night enveloped the city, the sparse glow from candles flickering in windows and the occasional small fire in open areas provided just enough light to navigate the quiet streets. The dim illumination also offered us a cover of shadows, making it easier to move without drawing too much attention.

The occasional curious glance from the sparse groups of mokmire we passed was cautious but none seemed inclined to approach us. Unlike the bustling cities from tales I had imagined, Kyrekeep at night was subdued, the streets mostly silent save for the soft murmur of conversations from behind closed doors or the rare sound of footsteps echoing against the muddy pathways.

As Ryone and I moved deeper into the city, the atmosphere grew tenser. The few people who were outside seemed hurried and intent on their own business, their heads down and steps quick. The lack of vibrant street life gave the city a somewhat eerie feel, as if the entire population was holding its breath, wary of the night and its concealed threats.

The quiet was in great contrast to the livelier scenes I had envisioned. Here, there was no laughter spilling from taverns, no children playing late into the evening, and no vendors hawking their wares. It seemed as if Kyrekeep, at least under the cover of darkness, transformed into a ghost, with its inhabitants retreating from public view, leaving the streets to the shadows and the occasional passerby like ourselves.

What struck me most was the apparent absence of any official presence. There were no guards patrolling the streets and no signs of a city watch that could maintain order. This lack of visible security made me question the governance of this place. Was there an underlying threat that kept its citizens indoors at night? This absence of authority could be a double-edged sword. On one hand, it meant fewer chances of us being stopped or questioned, on the other, it suggested a potential for lawlessness that could pose a different kind of danger.

The buildings themselves told a story of a city that had grown organically, perhaps haphazardly, over the years. Structures varied widely in style and state of repair, from decent homes with secured windows and doors to dilapidated shacks that looked like they could barely stand.

I found myself constantly scanning the environment, my dragon senses alert to any hint of danger. My large form might have been a deterrent to some, but it also made us a bigger target. Every shadow could conceal a threat, and every closed door was a potential ambush. This tension kept my muscles taut, my senses sharpened to every sound and movement.

As we moved forward, Ryone slowed down, allowing me to catch up.

"We are getting close now,” she began, whispering to make sure we wouldn’t get any unwanted attention. “We're heading to a clearing just inside the city. That's where the slaver caravan set up camp when I was here."

I silently nodded to her words as we kept walking to our destination.

After a few more minutes of walking, the streets gradually opened up into a broad thoroughfare that led directly to a vast clearing. The area was incredibly different to the tightly wound streets we had navigated until now. Here, the space was open and expansive, and even under the moon's dim light, I could see the outlines of multiple caravans arrayed in organized circles.

The clearing was evidently a designated camping area for carriages and caravans within Kyrekeep's boundaries. Each group of caravans was clearly demarcated, with wagons forming protective circles around central campfires that flickered like beacons in the dark.

As we edged closer, I noticed that while there was no official city guard presence, each group had set up its own watch. Individuals, likely hired hands or members of the trading parties themselves, stood guard over their respective circles. They were equipped with various weapons, from simple clubs to swords and bows, their eyes scanning the darkness.

The air was filled with a mix of smells like the woodsmoke from the fires and the faint aroma of cooked food. Soft murmurs of conversation and the occasional clink of utensils or tools punctuated the night air, creating a subdued but distinctly communal atmosphere.

Despite the apparent organization and calm of the scene, the presence of watchmen indicated a level of caution. It was clear that while the caravans were a common sight in this part of the city, they took no chances with their security.

As I scanned the clearing, I also couldn't help but notice something unusual about the means of transportation used here. The carriages themselves were robust and well-built, typical of those used for long travels or valuable cargo. However, unlike the carriages I'd seen in stories or distant memories, these weren't pulled by horses.

Near one of the larger caravans, a group of large, bulky creatures grazed quietly from troughs scattered around the area or lay sleeping on the ground. These creatures resembled rams, complete with large, curling horns, yet they were nearly as big as horses and considerably more muscular. Their size alone was imposing, but what truly caught my attention was the presence of two fluffy tails on each animal, swishing gently in the cool night air.

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As we had stopped at the edge of the clearing, Ryone seemed to notice my gaze lingering on the ram-like creatures.

“Never seen a thralion before?”

I looked at her and shook my snout.

“Well, they’re just pack animals, very docile too.” She paused and pointed towards the few around the through. “Those you see with the large horns are males, they are the ones who carry heavy weights or carriages. There are no females here because they are kept in farms and usually sheared for wool. You’ll see a lot of thralions in this part of the world.”

I stared for a few more moments at the bulky creatures, quite fascinated by their appearance and purpose.

I guess I truly am in a different world huh…

Ryone’s voice brought me back to reality.

"We should be able to find what I'm looking for there." She whispered, pointing towards a cluster of wagons that seemed slightly more isolated from the main groups.

We approached the indicated cluster with cautious steps, each of us scanning the area for any sign of trouble. As we got closer, I noticed a lone figure standing guard. He was hunched over, peering into the darkness with a bow at his side. The faint light from a nearby campfire flickered, casting shadows that danced over his features, but even in the dim light, something about him seemed familiar.

Ryone stopped abruptly, her body tensing. "Wait," she whispered urgently, grabbing my arm. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the figure. "That's him, the archer from the forest."

The realization hit me with a mix of surprise and alarm. This was indeed the same mokmire who had fled during our encounter in the forest. His presence confirmed that we had found the right caravan, but it also brought a rush of adrenaline, sharpening my senses.

I found it odd, though, that he was the only one keeping watch. Every other group had at least two or three guards. This discrepancy didn't sit right with me, and my gaze shifted between Ryone and the lone archer, seeking an explanation.

Ryone seemed to finish scanning our target and leaned closer. "They were transporting me alone to Ulv when I escaped," she explained in a hushed tone. "That's probably why there's only one watchman. They don't expect much trouble, considering they’re not carrying any goods anymore."

Hearing the girl talk about sentient beings as goods made me shrivel a bit, but it served as a reminder of the cruel reality that we lived in. I also couldn’t help but think how unusual it would be for a slaver group to only carry one person. I would have imagined they ran laps between cities, buying and selling their slaves to make a profit, yet carrying only one slave couldn’t have been worth it for them… unless the slave was extremely valuable.

Instinctively my gaze lingered on the girl next to me as she was intent on formulating a plan. Even more questions had just piled up in my mind, but I decided to archive them for now. There will be a time and place for explanations, but this wasn’t it.

Ryone's gaze shifted through the cluster of wagons, her expression hardening with resolve. "I want to go in alone," she said firmly, turning to face me. "You... you're too noticeable. If we both go, we'll definitely attract too much attention."

I visually recoiled at the suggestion, my snout curling in disapproval. The idea of letting her venture into potential danger without me was not something I could easily accept.

Seeing my reaction, Ryone quickly added, "Listen, the others are probably out drinking by now, and with only one watchman, I'm unlikely to be caught. I need to do this."

Despite my inability to speak, my body language spoke volumes. I was clearly unhappy with the plan, the tension visible in my stance and the flick of my tail showing my agitation.

Ryone reached out, placing a gentle hand on my leg. "I'll be careful, I promise. And you'll be right here. If anything goes wrong, you can come in and... well, do your thing," she said, trying to inject a light tone to ease the tension.

Her words, although meant to reassure, did little to alleviate my concerns. Yet, after a moment of silent communication, filled with Ryone's pleading looks and my reluctant nod, I finally relented.

"Stand guard here. If you see anything suspicious or if I don't come back quickly, you know what to do," she instructed, her voice a mix of determination and gratitude.

Umph… “do your thing” she says… guess I’ll just cover her with my Phytomancer abilities if push comes to shove…

Suddenly the realization hit me. I was not in a forest anymore, there were some grassy patches peeking through the clearing but it was mostly barren dirt.

I turned to stop Ryone but I shivered when I noticed she was already gone. I looked forward from the edge of the clearing. Here, from the shadows I could faintly make out the silhouette of the small girl crouching towards the camp.

I watched with a heavy heart as she approached the caravan. Every step she took seemed to echo loudly in my ears, despite the softness of her movements.

I positioned myself where I could keep watch over both the approach to the caravan and the surrounding area, my senses heightened to any disturbance.

It wasn’t hard for her to approach unseen. The archer, his attention waning, occasionally nodded towards the dim light of his campfire, seemingly struggling to keep his eyes open.

Focusing back on Ryone, I saw her crawl towards the back of the carts, opposite of where the archer was standing guard. The last glimpse I caught was of her determined back as she slipped between the wagons. Now, all I could do was wait, my senses stretched taut, hoping for her swift and safe return.