Disceroa, 32nd of Rainwane, year 179 BN

As Mitch and Richard stepped into the dimly lit shop, they were greeted by a man who seemed taken aback by their sudden presence. "Mitch, wasn't expecting you," he said, rising from his cluttered desk, his eyes briefly scanning the newcomers. The shop, though unremarkable at first glance, held the essentials: grains, fruits, and various meats, excluding the over-saturated market of Ice Fish, which the shopkeeper, Rodger, wisely avoided due to its low-profit margin in Disceroa.

"Rodger, it's been a minute," Mitch greeted with a knowing chuckle, as he walked through the cramped space, the floorboards squeaking with each step he took.

Not long enough for Rodger if he were being honest with himself. He assumed Mitch forgot all about him, and if it were up to him, he'd keep it that way. Mitch was a decent person once you got to know him, but the bastard always brought trouble with him.

"I want to introduce you to someone, a new merchant in town and a potential friend. I want to show him the good stuff, and don't give me that 'I'm not sure what you're talking about' crap that you spit." Mitch told him.

Rodger raised his hand in feigned surprise. "I'd never say something like that to you."

"Uhuh."

Rodger coughed once and looked over the group of people that came in with Mitch. "So, which one is it?"

Mitch pointed at Richard, the young brown-skinned man next to him. Rodger nodded his head once and rubbed his beard before glancing back at Mitch. "And he's good for it? You know none of this is cheap, and I can't have the guards come sniffing around if word gets out."

"Relax, you think I'd bring you someone that'd go running to the guards?"

From the stare, Rodger was giving Mitch Richard could infer that a situation like that had happened before. At first, the way Rodger was speaking Richard assumed he was indebted to the man, but it didn't seem to be the case.

Stepping out from behind the desk Rodger removed a pelt off the ground and began messing with the floorboards. Mitch casually leaned against a nearby table and Richard couldn't help but stare. No one was talking at the moment, the situation with Ben and the others caused everyone to be a bit tense.

None of those guys were speaking, when Richard was sure they had plenty to say. Instead, they were starring daggers at Ben with the occasional glances at Mitch. Benjmain on the other hand was standing at the door preventing anyone from entering or leaving.

"So, you're heading down to Ashern again?" Rodger asked without looking up, his hands working deftly on the floorboards.

Mitch's eyes followed Rodger's movements, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, should be gone for about four months, give or take. Kris can't seem to get enough of your meat. Keeps saying it's the best he's had."

Rodger paused to shoot a glance at Mitch, a hint of pride creeping up in his eyes. "Only the best here," he said as he finally pried open the secret entrance. Straightening up Rodger brushed off his hands. "Got a new shipment coming in soon. Should be here by the time you're back."

"You and the merchant can follow, the rest should stay up here." Rodger said. He wasn't worried about them taking his stuff, not if they were here with Mitch. The man would break their arm if they even tried to, besides, his real products were down here in the first place.

Mitch turned to look at the group. "Don't touch anything, this shouldn't take long." He said as he motioned for Richard to follow him.

Richard followed Mitch into the hidden basement, his eyes quickly adjusting to the ambient glow provided by firestones embedded along the walls. The innovative use of firestone, typically reserved for the forges of blacksmiths like Gregor, was a first for Richard to witness in such a domestic setting. The basement was lavishly adorned with shelves laden with an array of jewelry crafted from bronze, silver, and gold, each piece more intricate than the last. Amidst the wealth, a wooden chest caught Richard's eye, brimming with golden chalices encrusted with sparkling gems, alongside a scepter crowned with a vibrant green gemstone, and countless bronze and silver tales that seemed to spill endlessly from within.

However, the marvels of wealth quickly faded as an all-too-familiar, nauseating stench assaulted Richard's senses. The smell, reminiscent of his first disorienting night in this new world, forced an involuntary shudder through him. Curiosity piqued, he turned, seeking the source of the odor, only to be met with a sight that arrested his steps.

Cages, large, imposing metal structures, lined the walls, but they did not house animals as he first thought. No, these cages were filled with people.

He turned, looking at Mitch's back. It was best not to pay them any attention. This was how the world seemed to work, and Richard was not going to be the one to change it. The sight made his mouth twitch, but that was all.

As he fully descended the stairs, Rodger greeted him with a tone that dripped with a disturbing eagerness. "Let me know if you see something you like," Rodger began, his eyes gleaming with a perverse delight."Humans are common, but have you ever indulged in the company of an Elven woman?" Rodger kissed his finger in delight. "You'll find it hard to go after a human woman once you've had one for yourself, but if that doesn't suit you then..." Rodger turned to look at a cage with a petite girl. "I also have them young. I had an Oni, but the damn thing just kept trying to resist. So had to get rid of it, was a pretty little thing too."

The longer Rodger talked, the more disgusted Richard felt. His hand clenched into a fist multiple times as the man was speaking about them as if they were nothing but items to be had. It took a lot to hold himself back from punching Rodger in the face, and the man must have sensed it too.

Rodger smirked once. "Not to your taste? You'll change your mind. They all do," he taunted, his gaze shifting to a cage holding a young girl.

Mitch walked over to a cage that had something Richard couldn't explain inside of it. It looked like a fox, but it was tall, wore a dirty brown shirt that barely covered anything, and had the shape of a human. It clearly wasn't a human, but it wasn't a fox either.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Oh," Rodger laughed a little as he saw Richard eye the thing. "You're into that huh? Not my taste, but Beastkin are rare here in these parts. Those three came all the way from Aeloria, you won't find them in any other city up here that's for sure. Five gold tales ought to do it, what do you say?" Rodger asked as he rubbed his hands together.

Beastkin, the term was unfamiliar to him. Human shaped with their animal features, that was what they called a Beastkin. Richard didn't know how many of them there were, but he wasn't interested in buying them.

"No thanks," he firmly declined.

Rodger shot a puzzled look at Mitch. "You've brought an odd one," he remarked.

Mitch just laughed softly. "Appears so. Show him the rest of your collection, why don't you?"

With a resigned click of his tongue, Rodger beckoned Richard to follow. "This way. Beyond flesh, I've treasures and artifacts from afar, relics sacred and profane. Yet, it's my 'meat' that's most renowned," he boasted, leading the way to a nondescript black door at the basement's rear. If Richard wasn't paying attention he'd have missed it.

Opening the door revealed a chilling sight. Inside, carcasses hung in a room colder than the surrounding basement, its walls adorned with dark blue stones. The air was unnaturally frigid, like stepping into a refrigerator. That shouldn't be possible though given that this world didn't seem to have advanced technology. The stone wasn't ice, it didn't look like it. Even if it was, it should have melted a long time ago.

"This here is the best meat you'll ever find up north. Better than any pork, sausage, or whatever meat you eat. Go on, take a look, and tell me what you like." Rodger insisted.

Richard walked into the room and saw animals that were skinned, he couldn't make out what they were though. They didn't look like cows or anything like that, most of them were too large for that. The couple of small ones he spotted were as big as a turkey but the meat was red, not white.

"What is it?" Richard asked.

Rodger laughed. "You think I'm going to tell you that? Two silver tales for the small ones and ten for the big ones. I'll even freeze it for you, should last you until you reach your destination."

Richard didn't believe him, not about the quality or the ability to freeze it.

"What about spices, maybe olive oil or wine?"

"Oil, yes. The rest, no," Rodger confirmed.

"I'll take the oil then. No meat, thank you," Richard decided.

"Get him two of the small ones Rodger, on me," Mitch said as he came in from behind Richard. He smiled at Richard. "A gift, to our new budding friendship."

Richard wasn't all too sure about that. Given the way these two were, he doubted they'd ever be friends. But he was not one to turn away something if it was free.

"Watch, he'll be back for more," Rodger quipped as he fetched two small carcasses, not handing them directly to Richard but instead placing them in an iron box alongside three of the chilling blue stones. "Consider these a bonus."

Outside the chilling room, Rodger grabbed a vase that had olive oil in it. Richard tested it, and it felt like oil but he wasn't willing to light it up here or fry some chicken in front of them. It only cost him five silver tales for it, and that was including whatever discount Mitch told him he'd receive.

After that, they left the basement, not fast enough for Richard. The sight of those quivering people would haunt him for days to come. Seeing them on the dock bothered him, but not to this extent.

Once they returned to the first floor, Rodger closed the door to the basement and locked it. Quickly hiding it with the pelt of fur. He said a few more words to Mitch before Richard told the others they were ready to leave.

They headed out the door, and Mitch followed suit.

"Wait," Mitch's voice cut through the air, low and commanding, a tone reserved for conversations he intended to keep from prying ears.

Ben halted, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine. He turned, finding Mitch leaning nonchalantly against the door, arms crossed in a stance that belied the danger of his presence. The casual posture that Mitch had couldn't hide those sharp brown eyes of his that reeked of a predator eyeing it's prey.

"What's the deal with your face? You manage to tick off your old buddies?" Mitch's gaze was sharp, taking in the swollen lip and the redness that had yet to fade from Ben's nose.

Trying to mask the turmoil inside him with a nonchalant shrug, Ben replied, "Just a misunderstanding, that's all."

Mitch's smirk widened, sensing the lie. "Misunderstanding, huh? Did they buy that excuse for your eye too?"

The mention of his eye was a low blow, and Ben felt a surge of anger. His hand twitched behind his back, clenching into a fist, though he knew better than to show his frustration. "No, just... let it be, Mitch."

Getting worked up over some words with Mitch would never end well. His grand plan which was solid in his opinion was ruined because of the man. There might have been a chance if he had time to explain himself to the others and work out a plan to take the carriage, goods, and verlpax on the road to Valewater. At that point, he'd be long out of Mitch's reach, but sadly that would never work at this time. The others wouldn't listen to him, not now.

Mitch's amusement was evident as he shifted gears, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "I need you to take care of our merchant friend once you reach Valewater."

Confusion flashed across Ben's face, momentarily displacing his fear. "What? Why?"

The smirk on Mitch's face vanished in an instant.

"That wasn't part of the deal!" Ben protested, the shock clear in his voice.

Mitch closed the distance between them. "Oh, my apologies. I must've forgotten to ask for your input," he said, the sarcasm dripping from each word. His hand found Ben's shoulder, grip tightening until it was painful. "Listen here, Ben. You're not here to question me. You're here to do as I say."

Ben winced the pain becoming too much for him to bear. "Alright, alright, I'll do it," he conceded, desperation creeping into his voice. A moment later and he felt like his shoulder was going to snap.

Mitch's grip relaxed, "Make sure it's done. Because if he's still breathing after you've reached Valewater, you'll find yourself missing more than just an eye."

As Mitch stepped back, leaving Ben to nurse his bruised shoulder and bruised pride, a bitter realization settled in. Ben's plans, his hopes of escaping Mitch's control, were slipping through his fingers like sand.

How was he supposed to kill Richard? The task was impossible, Mitch was just telling him to die.

Here he was stuck under Mitch's grasp being his obedient little slave, while the others walked around free doing whatever they pleased. It wasn't fair, why was his life so difficult? What did he do to deserve this? Nothing that others haven't done plenty of times before that's for sure.

Gritting his teeth Ben glared at Mitch, but only for a moment. Any longer and the man was sure to see and snap his neck right that instant. Mitch would get his, Ben would make sure of that. He didn't know how or when, but he would. First Ben just had to do what he was told, and then strike.

Big Oar would too, that large brute. Thinking he's better than Ben, they all did. He'd show them, he'd show them all.

.....

Peter wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he was leaning against the tavern's walls. He drank too much and his stomach was screaming at him in protest.

Looking up he saw something that made him blink. Yeah, there was that bastard. He was wondering when he'd run into him but they never crossed paths since that day at the front gate. Normally he'd hire a few mercenaries to take care of his problems, but he was not going to do that when he had an important task to complete.

Now that, that was finished he could pay the man back for the humility he suffered. His brother would say he was being petty, but so what? No one dared to talk to him that way, and he didn't plan on letting the one who did live. At least not in peace. He'd ruin the man and his entire life, no matter the cost.

The man whoever he was, wasn't traveling alone. Peter had to hurry if he wanted to catch them in time. A bigger pay would ensure that the job would be finished, and during that time he just had to wait here until he heard back from his contact in Valewater. Lord Kirk wanted to start a war with his family, he'd make sure that old man got the war he wanted.