The night was calm, and the moon hung high in the sky, casting its silver glow over the town. A line of carriages, packed tightly with wooden crates, rolled toward Frosthold's main gate. The merchants' servants, tasked with transporting the goods, sat at the front of the lead carriage, their eyes filled with excitement and dreams of the future.
A young man named Rolf, gripping the reins, grinned at his companion. "Can you believe it, Balen? Once we deliver these crates, the boss promised us a hefty commission. I'll finally be able to buy that little house by the river."
Balen, a lanky man with sunken cheeks, chuckled. "You and that damn house. I swear, every time we get a good job, you start talking about it."
Rolf smirked. "And what about you? Don't act like you're not dreaming of something too."
Balen shrugged but a small smile tugged at his lips. "I've got my eyes on something better. Once I get my cut, I'm starting my own business. No more running deliveries in the dead of night. I'll open a food stall real fancy, too, with grilled meats and spices from the capital."
Rolf whistled. "Look at you, aiming big! Well, when you do, make sure to give me free meals."
Balen laughed. "You wish! You'll be paying double for all the times you made me haul extra crates."
Their laughter echoed into the night as they neared the gates. The guards stationed there barely paid attention to late-night shipments. This would be easy.
Or so they thought.
As the first carriage approached, a sudden voice rang out. "HALT!"
Torches flared, and a squad of soldiers stepped forward, blocking the path. Their captain, a stern-looking man with a scar down his cheek, glared at the group. "All carriages are to be inspected. Step down immediately."
Rolf felt his stomach drop. "W-What's the meaning of this?"
The captain's eyes narrowed. "We received reports of unauthorized goods being smuggled out of Ravennest. Open the crates."
Balen tried to keep his voice steady. "Sir, we're just transporting goods for our employer. We have no idea what's inside."
"Then you won't mind if we check." The captain signaled his men, who pried open the crates, revealing stacks upon stacks of the popular game boards that had taken the town by storm.
The soldiers exchanged glances before the captain's voice turned cold. "By order of Lady Vivian and Commander Rendon, all unauthorized shipments of these goods are seized. You are under arrest for smuggling."
Rolf's hands trembled. "N-No, there must be a mistake! We're just delivery workers! We didn't plan any of this!"
Balen, usually the calmer of the two, found himself stammering. "Please, sir! We were just following orders. Our employer promised us a commission. We didn't know"
The captain shook his head. "Ignorance is no excuse. You will explain everything in custody."
As shackles were placed on their wrists, Rolf's dream of owning his riverside home shattered. Balen's vision of a food stall faded into nothingness. The promise of a better life was gone in an instant.
The soldiers led them away, while the other merchants' carriages were searched one by one. The night, once full of dreams and ambition, now felt colder than ever.
The night air was thick with tension as more carriages were escorted to the Frosthold station. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the dimly lit corridors, where groups of merchants' servants, each one shackled, were lined up, awaiting their fate. The crates they had been tasked with transporting sat beside them, their contents now exposed piles of the popular game boards that had swept across Ravennest and Frosthold.
It wasn't just Rolf and Balen who were caught in the web of smuggling; several others, each with their own dreams and hopes for a better life, were now standing at the mercy of Lady Vivian's orders. The station, usually a place of routine arrivals and departures, had turned into a temporary holding facility for the culprits.
Rendon paced back and forth in the station's dimly lit command room. He was irritable, his thoughts racing as he reviewed the reports. His men had done their job efficiently, rounding up the criminals, but the sheer number of arrests made his head throb. His irritation wasn't just with the smugglersit was with the situation as a whole.
This was a mess that could have been avoided, yet here they were. Multiple shipments of the popular game were being illegally transferred to other towns, undermining the efforts to maintain control of the market.
Finally, Rendon stopped in front of the gathered servants. His eyes scanned their faces, some with fear, others with defiance. He didn't want to show sympathy, but he couldn't help noticing the way the weight of the situation had crushed their spirits.
The younger men, their faces full of youthful ambition just hours earlier, now looked like defeated souls. Rolf's hand trembled as he caught Rendon's gaze, but the captain said nothing. Balen stood stiffly, his eyes cast downward, perhaps remembering his dream of a food stall in the capital now reduced to nothing more than a broken fantasy.
"So," Rendon's voice broke the silence, low but commanding, "you thought you could smuggle these goods and get away with it? You believed the high commission would make it worth it? How many of you really thought you'd get away?"
A few servants mumbled quietly, their voices full of regret, but none spoke up. It wasn't the time for excuses.
"You will be held accountable for your actions," Rendon continued, his tone unwavering. "Lady Vivian has made it clear. You will answer for the smuggling, and the consequences will follow."
Rendon didn't need to hear their pleas. He'd seen enough cases like this before. This wasn't the first time greed had blinded people to the risks, nor would it be the last.
He turned to one of his men, signaling them to take the servants to the holding cells while the investigation continued. As the group was escorted away, Rendon felt the weight of the responsibility that had fallen on his shoulders. The situation wasn't over. There would be more to uncover in the coming days.
The morning had barely broken when Rendon arrived at his office, his boots echoing through the cold stone halls of Ravennest's security headquarters. His mind was already heavy with the tasks of the day ahead: training the new recruits, managing the increasing threat of smuggling operations, and overseeing the general safety of the town. As the leader of the security forces, the weight of Ravennest's protection rested heavily on his shoulders.
His assistant, a young officer named Garret, stood near the door, holding a stack of reports. Garret's face was weary but resolute as he handed over the first few documents.
"Sir, the new recruits are progressing well, but we'll need to work harder on their stamina. Many are struggling with the physical demands of the training."
Rendon glanced at the report. "Increase their drills. We can't afford to have weak soldiers when the time comes. The town's safety comes first."
Garret nodded, marking a note to address the issue later. As Rendon flipped through more papers, Garret continued his updates.
"Sir, preparations for war are moving along. We've received word that neighboring towns are fortifying their defenses. Our own plans are on schedule, but there's talk of increased bandit activity in the east."
Rendon paused at the mention of bandits, his brow furrowing. "Monitor them closely. We need to be prepared for anything."
Garret quickly made a note, his pen moving swiftly across the page. "Also, sir, the soldiers reported that Lord Zach has arrived in Frosthold."
Rendon's attention snapped back to the report. "The young master, huh?" He had been expecting the young lord's arrival in frosthold. "Is there any word from our lord in the capital?"
Garret shook his head, his expression apologetic. "No, sir. Nothing yet. Perhaps by tomorrow."
Rendon's lips pressed into a thin line. "Very well. We'll wait for the message, then." He gestured toward the next set of reports on his desk. "Anything else?"
Garret hesitated for a moment before handing over the final report, one that seemed to weigh heavier than the others. "This came in late last night, sir. All the servants we caught during the smuggling bust well, they're all pointing to the same group of merchants. They claim these merchants gave them the orders to transport the goods."
Rendon's sharp eyes skimmed the details of the report. His expression darkened as he processed the information. "So, it was like Hadrian report huh." He turned to Garret. "Prepare to bring these merchants in for questioning. We'll make sure to get to the bottom of this."
Garret nodded, clearly relieved that the investigation was moving forward. "Yes, sir. I'll arrange the necessary teams immediately."
Rendon leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. His thoughts were still clouded by the many tasks he had to handle. There were too many moving parts in Ravennest. Between managing his soldiers, overseeing the security of the town, and dealing with the merchant smuggling operations, he could hardly find time for himself.
With the report in hand, he stood up and made his way to the window. Outside, the town was just waking up, the sounds of merchants opening their shops and people beginning their day filtering in. He wondered how much longer this would go on the endless tasks, the constant vigilance. But for now, he had to focus. There was a job to be done.