At the end of the foothills, opening up onto the Higaard Plains, the north road continued. On it and its offshoots were traveling caravans that brought goods to remote villages, purchased good from the villagers, and then set out to sell those goods elsewhere. Typically this process was repeated until the caravan had earned enough to establish a permanent store front somewhere and hire the services of another caravan or its members broke off from one another and went their separate ways. With the growing bandit plague more of the latter sort had become vogue. Only large caravans with enough money to hire mercenaries for extended periods, or individuals who knew how to avoid detection or interest from the brigands were still actively trading on the open roads. That said, hardy Yvergnians weren't the sort to just give up. Merchants who didn't fall into those categories used their knowledge to elevate and educate the villages and towns they found themselves in. This created a class of wealthy villagers and mercenaries who could travel to other nearby towns and spend their coin, and in turn those towns would take interest in goods from the other towns. So in like fashion, trade between towns was still strong in places of relatively short distance, the further from the Bantoleon border the further that distance could be.

On the north road just as it left the foothills one such merchant woman, left by her caravan, fussed about with a wagon and large pack. She had steel colored hair and stocky build, with sharp eyes and a friendly smile. Currently she was attempting to lift a large crate onto the wagon, when suddenly a deep voice with a thick northern Bantoleon accent called out to her, and the load she was bearing grew lighter.

“Are you needing help? Is rather large box for such small lady.”

The merchant, Katrina, peered around the side of the crate and found a tall well built man with dark hair and eyes holding the other side effortlessly.

“O-oh, thank you so much,” Katrina said caught off guard by the kind gesture. The man lifted the crate from her hands entirely and loaded it into the wagon. He dusted off his hands and gave her a huge smile.

“There, is done.”

Without another word he began to wander away, but Katrina stopped him.

“Wait a second sir, I didn't get your name!”

“Name? Oh yes! How silly of Roak, forgetting his manners yes! Name is Roak, from city of Snowfell up in big snowy mountains on Bantol side.”

A moment to explain Katrina's lack of fear, given how much of an issue Bantoleon bandits were: Bantol was widely divided into three regions. They were all technically under the thumb of king Senfiel, but the regions to the far north and far south were so geographically and culturally different that the central region was the only one truly at the whims of the cruel king. To the north was a range of mountains as dense as those surrounding Sciyanne in Yvergn, the largest of which boasted a great waterfall that fed the river that divided the continent in two, forming the border of Yvergn and Bantol. This area was called the Fey'rihn Region, after the mountain Fey'ri, and it was here wyverns and other great monsters dwelled. The mountains were also home to several people groups who passively resisted Bantoleon rule, but with the harsh winters the mountains brought they were hard pressed to totally ignore it as they could receive aid from Central Bantol which was an abundant and fertile land in times of peace.

To the south was the Great Laquira Desert. While in many ways opposite of the northern mountains, the people groups living there also benefited from middle Bantol's fertility. Another similarity between the desert and mountains was that monsters were great in both size and number in both regions. Here was another point Senfiel used to keep the regions under control, by offering rewards to monster hunters, or even sending out extermination excursions.

All of that said, Yvergn was still to this day on good terms with the people groups from the mountains and desert, especially merchants like Katrina who took advantage of the unique goods produced in those remotes. The troublesome bandits where usually from Central Bantol, where either from overtaxing or outrageous quotas, or perhaps even the land itself showing signs of fatigue, farming the once fertile soil was no longer a worthwhile endeavor for many. It didn't take much imagination to think that the folk in the remotes would catch on to this and realize that the support they needed may soon be cut off, creating a trickle of immigrants to Yvergn, looking to make connections or learn something that could help show them the way forward.

Putting it all together, Katrina recognized Roak's accent having heard a similar manner of speech in her hometown long before she left with her caravan, and therefore knew that the man wasn't a bandit immediately.

“It's so nice to meet you Roak! Thanks for the help, I'm Katrina by the way,” she said and then asked, “So what brings you to Yvergn?”

The great man's face clouded and grew serious.

“Hmm, Roak has something to tell king of Yvergn but journey is not going so good, yeah? Roak was not thinking it be easy, but also not so difficult to be meeting with the king man.”

Katrina blinked in surprise, “Are you a noble then, sir Roak?”

Roak waved his large hands in alarm, “Roak is not so nobleman, not even gentleman, but Roak is must be one to be telling king man important thing!”

“What is it?” Katrina asked, not expecting an answer if it was meant for the king to hear.

Roak tilted his head and fiercely shut his eyes as though deep in thought, “Ach, thinking much and doing little gets Roak nowhere fast. Listen and be calm little Katrina.”

At being called 'little Katrina' her heart jumped a bit, it wasn't something she was used to, on top of that the seriousness in his face and voice were a stark contrast to the jovial persona from minutes before. She nodded in confidentiality, and Roak continued.

“War brews in Senfiel. Now not idle threat, real things are moving on Bantol side.”

Katrina gulped, taking in his grave words. His word as a Bantoleon carried weight, not only that but he seemed to have some insider knowledge on top of that. She didn't doubt it either, discontent was rife in Bantol, it was a smart move on Senfiel's part as war would unite the poor people of Bantol against the comparatively prosperous Yvergnians, feeding jealousies and bitterness at their misfortune under the corrupt ruler. It probably helped Senfiel's case that Yvergn was slow to anger, and had thus far chosen to adapt to the bandits rather than exterminate them or cut them off at the source. However, that also made him a fool in Katrina's opinion. There was no need to go to war, that would only serve to spread Bantol's misery, or incur the wrath of Yvergn and lead Bantol to utter annihilation.

“How were you planning on meeting the King?” Katrina asked, as she and Roak continued loading the wagon with the last of her goods and personal possessions.

“Roak was thinking just had to go up to the big castle and have audience, but apparently is not so easy a thing. Security is nice and tight, this is good thing Roak thinks, but yes very difficult for foreign commonman to say what need saying, yes.”

Katrina nodded, in Yvergn it actually wasn't so uncommon for common folk to seek an audience with the king, especially if it concerned agriculture or mercantilism, but for a foreign commoner they would need something more than just their word to be let into the castle, something which Roak didn't seem to have the luxury of. Given the direction Roak had come from, it seemed he had learned of this from other Yvergnians but had decided to try his luck anyway, as he seemed to be taking the road south towards Sciyanne.

Katrina stroked the vanasheara hitched to her wagon and said, “Why don't you come with me? I can vouch for you if you need. I just broke off with my caravan and didn't have any particular plans, so stopping by Sciyanne doesn't sound like a bad idea.”

Roak's eyes lit up, “You are sure? Roak is very glad if so!”

Katrina smiled, “You bet! I owe you for your help anyway, a good merchant pays her debts.”

“Many and a thousands thanks little lady Katrina!”

Katrina laughed nervously as her heart pounded again, this time Roak had thrown in a layer of respect with the diminutive, “Just Katrina is fine, really!”

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“As you say, as you say!” Roak said excitedly, and as if looking for some way to express his immense joy, he took to petting the vanasheara and babbled to it in a language Katrina couldn't understand. It must have been a language common to the Fey'rihn Region, or perhaps even a dialect exclusive to Snowfell as she had only heard it one other time, and again from the old man who had lived in the village she was raised in.

Together they boarded the wagon, and began heading south towards Sciyanne.

Meanwhile, Shyk's wing had healed. Jeroam and Alyse were presently experiencing the thrill of flight on wyvernback firsthand as the giant wyvern let off exhilarated trills and trumpets into the wind. As they traveled north, a great rumble reached Jeroam's ears, and Shyk looked at him with pleading eyes. The great monster was hungry. Jeroam thought to have him land and allow him to hunt, but the wyvern had other ideas. On the road below, a wagon rattled down south. Jeroam was worried Shyk had his eyes on the vanasheara pulling the wagon.

“You can't take the beast of burden!” he chided, but Shyk replied with a dismissive trill, it wasn't the vanasheara he was after.

Before Jeroam had a chance to further confirm the wyvern's intentions, Shyk was in a spiral descent, and landed lightly in front of the wagon, startling the vanasheara, but so gentle was his landing that it didn't run away in panic but simply eyed him warily.

Katrina and Roak flinched in surprise as from the skies a giant black form gracefully touched down in front of the wagon, giving Katrina's vanasheara a good scare, but the beast held fast. From the back of the great winged thing two human forms dismounted, one clad in dark armor, the other a young woman with shoulder length purple hair, and a light piece of armor on one shoulder.

“G-greetings!” Katrina called nervously. This was like a meeting out of a fairy tale, she could scarcely believe her eyes.

“Hail travelers,” the armored man called, his voice oddly clear for being under a helmet.

“Sorry for the scare, Shyk, that's the wyvern, got hungry so he brought us down,” the mercenary, as Katrina inferred by her outfit, said.

Roak put a hand on the vanasheara defensively.

“Ah, that would be the natural reaction,” the armored man spoke with a chuckle, “but Shyk indicated it wasn't the vanasheara he was after. Might you have some other foodstuffs we might purchase off you?”

Katriana looked to the large crate Roak had helped her load, its contents were salted meats, jerky, dried fruit, dried fish, and some monster parts that made for decent tools that could be sold for cheaper than those of iron or steel. For a large wyvern like Shyk those same parts could probably be easily shattered by his teeth and eaten for the calcium and other minerals and vitamins they contained.

“That I have...” Katrina's merchant instincts and survival instincts were clashing. She was loath to part with the contents of the crate for nothing, but trying to ask for money in the face of such imminent danger struck her as foolhardy.

Roak however made her case for her, the large foreigner seemed at ease even in front of the wyvern. No, in fact he seemed greatly interested in the monster.

“Come now, Katrina is business woman. She is needing the coin and such to keep business going, yes?”

“Excuse me! I should have made that clear as well. My my, I am truly on the back foot today. Of course I will compensate you! That was fully in my intentions. It would not do to be a burden on our lifeline in these turbulent times!” the man in armor said quickly and remorsefully, pulling out a coinpurse from a sack at his side.

Roak too apologized, “Oh perhaps Roak to was hasty, the big thing is imposing, just seeing him there brings the shivers.”

“I should have taken that into account,” the man in armor said plainly as he approached the wagon, “Oh excuse me again, we've forgotten our introductions!”

Alyse followed Jeroam, and introduced herself, “I'm Alyse, formerly a mercenary of Eutho.”

Jeroam took off his helmet, and realization dawned on Katrina's face before he even started introducing himself.

“King Jeroam!?” she interjected.

Jeroam made an awkward smile, “Well, yes. Keep this matter between us though,” his face grew grave, “there are matters that demand my attention to the north.”

Roak nearly jumped out of the wagon, “The king man is here!! Roak has things to be saying to you!”

Jeroam was taken aback by that reaction, and he took a good look at Roak. His build was like that of the men in Northern Bantol, of the Fey'rihn Region sometimes called Outer Bantol in the royal courts.

At this revelation, Katrina jumped out of the wagon as well. She and Roak bowed, but Jeroam called out.

“Please friends, rise, I am only a man even if I am a king. What is the matter, sir Roak?” Jeroam tried, but Shyk made a snuffling sound and indicated the wagon.

Jeroam chuckled, and opened his coinpurse, turning to Katrina, “It seems Shyk's stomach calls for more immediate attention, how much for your foodsuff?”

Katrina sized up the wyvern and slumped her shoulders, “Two Ilv for the whole crate.”

Jeroam's eyes widened, “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure, I have other things I can sell and enough feed for my vanasheara. On top of that, I'm not sure if even the whole crate will satisfy a wyvern...” she said humbly.

“Then you have my thanks,” Jeroam said taking two Ilv coins from his coinpurse. Yvergnian currency, though it was also in use in Bantol, was comprised of seven types of coinage. The lowest was called a Tar, a small bronze piece with a sword on one side and a crown on the other. Ten of these created a Toh, which was a pewter piece bearing a spear on one side and crest of a sword and shield on the other. Twelve of those created a Vern which was a silver piece bearing a crest of two vanasheara pulling a wagon on one side and pair of crossed swords on the other. Seven of these created an Ilv, a gold piece with a dragon head on one side and a crown on the other. Seven of these created a Priorum, whose common name had become prirum which was a platinum coin depicting twin intertwined snakes on one side and a dragon head on the other. Three of these created an Oni, a black metal unique to Te-drae with properties like those of gold and titanium combined. It bore the images of a man on one side and a woman on the other. Seventy of these created an Alchemist's Pride, colloquially called Alkepri, which were made of an unnatural metal alloy only able to be synthesized alchemically. Their value was always rising in turn with Yvergn's declining mage population as they were currently unmintable. It bore the image of ouroboros on one side and the sun on the other. Three Tar could buy an apple, and one Priorum a vanasheara. A hard day's labor generally yielded between three to five Vern.

Two Ilv for the whole crate was certainly a deal, but also safely netted Katrina enough to purchase the same amount of product, gaining roughly seven Toh in genuine profit.

Jeroam and Roak unloaded the crate and before they could open it, Shyk did so himself, cleverly using the blade on his tail like a crowbar while using his wings to hold the box in place. He then helped himself to the contents gleefully.

While Shyk enjoyed his meal the humans began their serious discussion.

Roak began, “Down to the businesses and tacks of brass. Roak has come to the country Yvergn to tell the king man war is coming.”

Jeroam knit his eyebrows, “With Bantol you mean?”

Roak nodded gravely.

“Those are certainly grim tidings. Your proofs?”

“Mad King Senfiel has started a drafting, poor folk, bandit folk, soldier folk, it matters not. Silver lining is that loyalty not strong. All reluctant and spiteful of king. But...”

“But?”

“There is small but tough circle directly under beneath the mad king. They it can be said too are certainly mad crazy. Crazy strong too, misfortune for any who are showing open discontent.”

Jeroam thought about this for a while.

“I see,” it fit well with his knowledge of Bantol and the kind of rule Senfiel had shown up to this point. There was no reason to doubt Roak's words, in fact now that he had said them it was self evident in the situation Yvergn was actually in. Jeroam sighed heavily, but made a decision.

“Then I must head for Bantol first. My journey will be for naught if while I am dealing with the North the country behind me is taken.”

“The North?” Katrina piped up.

Jeroam explained his dream and reasons for his journey, Roak and Katrina's eyes widened at his words.

“Then by all means Roak will accompany king man Jeroam!”

“I don't know if there's anything I can do, but I certainly can't go back to Sciyanne knowing all that!” Katrina chorused.

“Thank you, friends! There must be some meaning in our meeting, so I gratefully accept your aid.”

Alyse looked at Katrina's wagon, then at Shyk. She didn't doubt the wyvern could carry it, but the vanasheara would surely be traumatized by the experience.

“We should probably stop at one of the plains villages then, so that Katrina can sort out her vanasheara,” Alyse said practically.

“Great thinking Alyse,” Jeroam said, “Are you alright with that Katrina?”

“Yes my lord!”

“Jeroam is fine, we're traveling companions now.”

So began the journey into the plains.