The biggest city in The northern region. Known for its eccentric culture. A shithole?

Yes.

Drac and Marina stand by the Carriage as Bob feeds the horse’s carrots. They watch as a line of people queue to get into the city. Littered around the wall and the main road were tents.

Came here for a job once. Was meant to survey this area. Gather intel. The stories you hear about Foushire being a haven for northern nobles are true. But living as a commoner is… taxing. And surprisingly for a big city, they were less welcoming to someone of our skin complexion than a small town like Furling. Crime is high. Sickness is rampant. Its leaders… It's just like any other city.

The group enters back into the carriage. Bob steers the carriage closer to the massive gate. They join the line of caravans and merchants. A dozen Guards are at the gate holding spears. More of them are on top of the battlement with bows. Soldiers can be seen checking every coach.

They have increased the number of guards on duty since I came here. Means one thing.

“They know about me.”

“What did you say?” Marina looks at Drac, chomping an apple in her mouth.

Drac points. “The Guards are there for me.”

“How is that even possible? You mercilessly killed all the bandits.

Drac thinks for a second. “Ah, the sailors.”

You’re too kind for your good.

“Shiiit. Okay, What's your plan? Cut their necks?”

“Marina, I don’t kill every problem I have.” Marina glances at Drac like she can't believe that.

The inspectors approach, moving through caravans and getting closer to Drac’s.

I know where to go. Tell her to -

“Meet me at Gove’s tavern, I have a way in.” Mask and hood on, Drac slick through the carriage door, round its back and into the Tents.

A large man steers the carriage to the front of the Gate. At the door, Inspectors look at the wheels and the undercarriage. They check the tarp up before being stopped by a Lady in an extravagant green dress. Blonde hair catches the sunlight. The Guard was mesmerised by green eyes.

“Guard. I hope you will not go into my things. You may happen upon something… unfortunate.” The lady's voice was sultry. Her smile was enough to make the inspector stammer.

“S-s-s-sorry Miss, n -never meant to”

“It is ok, Darling. I will forgive you. this once” She moves her finger down the young man's cheeks. The inspector moves back, blushing till he is strawberry red.

“T-t-toll, miss. Two gold.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The lady looks at the young man with confusion. “Two gold? And everyone pays for this?

Y-y-yes m-miss. It's r-r-required by l-l-law. By t-the Duke.”

“Driver.” The large man pays the toll.

“You may go M-miss.” The Carriage drives into the Gate, and the lady in the green dress smiles at the guards. Seeing that they are clear away in front of the gate, Marina relaxes.

“Sometimes, Bob, I can plan as well.”

Marina watches the outside. Roads not maintained. Rubbish and faeces covered the street and the city goers are none the wiser. Buildings in a rough state, in need of desperate repair.

“What a shithole”

Marina closed the curtains on the windows to change back to her usual attire. Marina uses Loqui to transmit her voice to Bob's ear. “Find us a place where the carriage won't stand out. Wouldn't want to wake up in the morning to find it picked to the bone by thieves”

Drac walks through the Camp of tents. Men work, building more tents. Women stay with their children or work alongside the men. Commoners, the residents of the camp were. By the state of the camp, they are living in this predicament for a while. What is worth waiting in tents for?

Drac out of the tent camp. Close to a cropping of trees is an old cottage. The roof collapsed to the floor. Drac opens the wooden door hanging by its last hinge.

There should be a trap door around here.

Covered by leaves is a square door on the floor. Drac lifts the door. A dust wafts through to his nose. Drac finds a ladder

Trek down this tunnel.

Drac drops down, levitation aiding his fall. Burns a fire on his index finger and he steps further into the darkness.

Cal and his men enter Furling. The six men catch eyes. Not usually men in armour come upon this small town. His men, exhausted from a long ride, need a place to rest. Horses were tied to posts and the 7th went to the local inn.

“Mead for everyone!” Cal shouts. The men of the 7th cheer.

Cal looked around. He sensed a certain atmosphere in the town. Many of the residents were jovial. Perhaps a festival happened recently. No. Spring Fest is to come. Cal calls over a bald bartender.

“Servant. The Town. I have noticed a… change.”

“It's Karl, sir. Owner of the Inn And Yes. We went through some trouble. But thankfully a hero came to our town.”

Cal stops drinking to look at the servant. “A hero…”

“Oh yes. Came in our hour of need. Like God sent him.”

“Mm.” Cal goes back to drinking, shooing off the bartender

“Jehu. Come.” A 7th, of a slim frame, pauses his drinking to meet Cal.

“Sir.” Jehu bows subtlety.

“Change into lesser clothes. Ask around about this hero.”

“Yes, sir.” Jehu walks away to complete his task.

Cal sits at the corner table alone, his one cup of mead half empty on the table. He looks over to the 7th at the bar. Their smiles, cheering, and laughing at stories of the good old days irritated him. Just needed to catch that accursed boy and he can leave this group of geriatrics. His chest feels tight. Lungs feel tight. A hole forms in his heart. He quickly checks his chest. Cal breathed heavily, trying to calm his mind. Nothing is there. No hole. Everything is normal. His heart beats.

Never again.

Jehu comes back hours after leaving with common attire. He walks briskly to Cal’s table. He looked down, anxious.

“Sir. He was here.”

Cal starts to get up.

“The Hero. It was him. The hood. They also called him by a second name.”

Cal picks up his sword.

“Drac.”

Cal’s inky Aura blows the corner table into pieces. His aura decimates everything from the floor to the wall. Wood and stone debris fly at the inn’s customers.

“Men. Make sure no one leaves.” Orders are followed at once. Anger twisted Cal's face. Veins bulge with blood. Cals turns to the frightened servant.

“Answer my questions if you wish for your hands to still be attached.”