The first rays of sunlight broke through the clouds and spilled across the land, scattering the darkness of the night.
The full moon, hanging high in the vault of the sky, had at last spent its power entirely. The world beyond the cave stirred back to life.
Birds sang in the deep forest. A gentle breeze passed through the grass, carrying with it the clean, earthy scent of morning.
Orum drew a slow breath of cool dawn air and stepped into the dim mouth of the cave before him.
A shaft of warm light followed from behind, reaching into the darkness and illuminating the grim scene within.
The stone walls were covered in bloody claw marks, furrows of varying depth carved into the rock as though by the talons of some enormous beast.
The floor was strewn with shredded cloth and dried blood.
The stale air reeked of animal musk, the smell rolling forward on the faint breeze.
Deep inside the cave, Melina lay curled against the rock wall in tattered clothes, looking smaller and more fragile than usual.
Her grey stealth suit had been torn to strips and scattered across the cold stone floor.
Her hands were covered in wounds. Her nails were broken, the flesh beneath each fingertip darkened to a deep, bruised black.
Palms and knuckles that had once been smooth and fair were now laced with scratches of every depth.
The dried blood everywhere bore silent witness to the anguish and desperation of the night before.
"Melina?" Orum called softly. His voice carried through the cave.
Melina lay unconscious, her face pale as snow.
Her breathing was so faint it was almost imperceptible, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven movements.
Orum carefully undid the heavy iron chains binding her. The links hit the stone floor with a dull clank, coiling like a dead serpent.
The thick chains had left deep impressions on Melina's slender wrists and ankles. The skin was bruised and broken, scabbed in places where it had bled.
But she was alive. There was still a chance she would recover her mind.
Looking at Melina's pained expression as she slept, Orum felt a quiet swell of pity.
He took a set of clean clothes from his pack and dressed her gently while she remained unconscious.
He smoothed the tangled black hair from her face, then gathered her carefully into his arms, feeling how light she was, how fragile the life in her body seemed, and carried her out of the cave one steady step at a time.
The moment they cleared the entrance, warm sunlight fell over both of them. At the mouth of the cave, the three other members of the Ice Hawks Company waited with eyes full of worry.
"Orum, how is Melina?"
Felix had been waiting at the entrance for some time. He asked the question with concern plain in his green eyes.
"She's alive. She needs treatment."
Orum set Melina down carefully on the padded mat laid flat in the wagon bed.
Ronald came forward at once to examine her, then let out a breath of relief. "All surface wounds. Easy enough to treat."
His hands filled with warm, sacred light, which settled over Melina's body and began mending the damage.
This time, Ronald chose not to recite the prayer of Lathander. He cast without channeling divine energy into the spell, careful to avoid inflicting further harm on Melina with the light of a holy god.
Raygore quietly gathered up the chains and stowed them in the storage box at the back of the wagon.
The heavy iron links clattered as they settled.
Felix said at once, "We move out now. We head for Roen City."
"The company needs to regroup, and Melina needs somewhere proper to rest."
In the early morning light, the two wagons of the Ice Hawks Company rolled forward and set off.
The wheels ground over the dew-wet stone path with a steady, rhythmic knock.
To the sound of hooves, the road gradually filled with more and more travelers.
Merchant convoys, pilgrims, adventurers all merged into a single stream, and the highway grew livelier with every mile.
"That's Roen City up ahead."
Ronald sat in the driver's seat, holding the reins while scanning the road ahead.
"Look at all these merchant caravans."
One loaded wagon after another passed alongside them, each bearing the crest of a different trading house on its side. Some were hauled by large magical beasts that carried the wild scent of open country.
Orum sat beside Melina and checked on her at intervals. Thanks to Ronald's healing, her wounds had mostly closed. But her face remained pale, her brow furrowed, as though even in sleep she was still in pain.
Ronald glanced back.
"Melina's physical injuries aren't serious. The real problem is exhaustion, mental and physical. The werewolf transformation burns through stamina and spiritual reserves at an enormous rate."
Once they were inside the city, Felix would arrange proper lodging for Melina.
She would stay there until she had recovered enough to look after herself, after which they would begin searching for a way to suppress the transformation urge that seized her on nights of the full moon.
The second wagon, driven by Raygore, brought up the rear. That battered old vehicle had groaned and creaked its way through the entire journey in protest and had somehow, miraculously, not fallen apart.
In less than a day, they could already see it in the distance: the legendary city of wealth and pleasure.
Roen City, the greatest commercial hub of the kingdom's southern reaches. The city that never slept, where fortune and desire were braided together.
"Whoa!"
Ronald could not help himself.
"So that's Roen City? It must be ten times the size of Blackwater Town!"
In the distance, Roen City was encircled by towering walls of obsidian. Their surface caught the last of the sun and gleamed with a deep, dark luster, like a great black dragon coiled across the earth.
The buildings within rose in layers: gilt-spired temples and churches stood alongside bronze-domed guild towers in a jagged, magnificent skyline.
As the sun descended, a winding canal cut through the heart of the city like a golden ribbon set into the ground. The water caught the light and scattered it in fragments across the surface, reflecting the grand facades of the buildings on both banks.
Airborne merchant ships slid across the upper sky, their passage marked by a deep, resonant roar that turned heads on the road below. Their enormous sails bore the ornate crests of the great trading houses, and their shadows drifted slowly across the land beneath them.
"It really is something."
Orum looked out at the scene ahead, something stirring in his chest.
Perhaps it was simply that he had spent too long in Blackwater Town, growing accustomed to its modest and shabby character.
Seeing the scale of commerce on display before him now felt genuinely arresting, as though he were looking at everything with new eyes.
"Roen City is the commercial heart of the entire southern kingdom," Felix said by way of introduction.
"Merchants and adventurers from every corner of the south converge here. Wealth, opportunity, danger: you'll find all of it in abundance."
Compared to the closed, subdued atmosphere of Blackwater Town, Roen City had a quality to its very air: something unrestrained, almost reckless.
Sitting in the wagon, looking at the city they were about to enter, Orum noticed it at once. The cautious, constrained feeling that had characterized Blackwater Town was entirely absent here.
In its place was something more naked. Desire, laid bare without apology.
Money, pleasure, luxury, sensation. Every hunger the human heart concealed in its depths found open satisfaction here.
At the city gates, the crowds were dense. Merchants and adventurers of every race jostled together in the flow.
Dwarven traders hauled gleaming rare ore, their steps heavy and assured. Ore dust clung to their beards, and their eyes held the settled contentment of men who had turned a good profit.
But no sooner had these dwarves set down their precious loads than sharp-eyed touts from the gambling houses materialized at their elbows.
"This way, this way! A little luck, honored dwarf sir!"
The touts pressed invitations on them with practiced warmth, and while the dwarves initially looked ready to decline, the moment they heard that the house was running a special promotion, that every participant tonight would receive a complimentary voucher for the Lily Garden in the Firebird District regardless of whether they won or lost, any resistance crumbled on the spot.
Money these dwarves had worked hard to earn would soon be flowing into the coffers of establishments like this one.
On both sides of the road, taverns glowing with warm lamplight breathed out rich smells of ale and the wandering notes of a bard's melody. Orange light from the windows pooled across the street below, giving the city a warmth as evening came on.
From the balconies on the second floor, shapely figures of varied complexions leaned over the railing and scattered flower petals down onto the adventurers passing below, calling out to them.
"Come up and rest a while, adventurers! A massage to ease your tired muscles!"
Every one of them wore a radiant smile, and there was something deliberately inviting about the way they held themselves.
Those captivating figures drew the eyes of countless passersby, who stopped and stared with undisguised longing.
The city was thick with entertainment venues of every kind.
Inside the gambling halls, adventurers, merchants, and even nobles in expensive robes sat red-eyed and frenzied, pushing their bets forward without pause.
Those who walked out having struck it rich would often find their attention snared almost immediately by a graceful silhouette, and before long they had followed it behind perfumed curtains to revel through the night.
Beneath the steady rhythm of hooves on cobblestone came the occasional raw howl of some adventurer who had lost everything and could not hold it in.
This city was nothing like the conservative, restrained Blackwater Town, and nothing like the filthy, treacherous black market of Port Zobek.
Roen City worked at you from every corner, coaxing and enticing, drawing out your coin by one means or another until you left either contented or hollowed out.
None of that concerned Orum particularly, not at this moment.
The first priority upon arriving in an unfamiliar city was to find a place to stay.
Orum sat in the wagon and felt the satisfying weight of the coin pouch in his pocket.
In preparation for this period of rest and resupply in Roen City, Felix had advanced each member a portion of their earnings as a settlement allowance: six hundred gold coins in total, a sum that would afford them considerable freedom of movement for quite some time.
The wagon rolled deeper into the streets of Roen City, and the spectacle of the place unfolded all around them.
The Ice Hawks Company's wagons finally came to a stop in front of the Sunbright Inn.
"We should stay separately," Felix told the group. "Everyone has different needs. Forcing us all under one roof is more likely to create friction than anything else."
It was a sensible call.
The priest Ronald had already decided to take up residence at the Lathander Monastery outside the city walls.
The sacred atmosphere suited his prayer and meditation, and beyond that, he intended to pursue more rigorous theological training there.
Raygore, blunt and uncomplicated in his tastes, preferred the rougher sort of tavern: sparse furnishings, bad floors, and strong liquor flowing freely.
That kind of environment put the half-orc warrior at ease in a way no beautifully appointed inn ever could.
Melina, still carrying the curse of lycanthropy, obviously could not stay anywhere under the control of the Church of the Sun. Divine energy was to her what poison was to an ordinary person.
The right place for her was a small, quiet, unremarkable inn somewhere out of the way, somewhere far from the notice of any holy men who might recognize what she was and treat her as prey.
Felix looked at each of them in turn, his tone serious. "I won't force anyone to stay together. You're all free to make your own choices."
A good leader needed both wisdom and the ability to accommodate people as they were.
Compulsory communal living had a way of breeding resentment, while giving people enough room to breathe tended to keep a company functioning smoothly.
"Two days from now, we meet back here at the Sunbright Inn," Felix announced. "That's when we settle the full earnings from this job and discuss what comes next."
Felix himself would be checking into the Sunbright Inn, recommended to him by the holy knight Alexander.
The inn was run by a chapter of the Amanat Order, and the sacred atmosphere it carried posed no discomfort whatsoever to someone with silver dragon blood in his veins.
"In two days," Felix continued, "I'll be going with Orum and Raygore to the Adventurers' Hall to officially register for the Blazing Sun Tournament."
Ronald gave a wry smile and shook his head. "Priests don't fare well in solo combat. I'll sit this one out."
Melina, still unconscious, was even less of a candidate. Her status as a creature of darkness made any large public competition an impossibility. If her identity were exposed, the consequences would be dire.
Orum nodded. "Then it's the three of us."
The time to part came.
Ronald said his goodbyes first, shouldering his modest pack and setting off toward the Lathander Monastery outside the city.
His stride was resolute, though it faltered partway down the street when a flirtatious blown kiss from a nearby balcony caught his eye.
"Ow!"
He walked straight into a signpost and let out a sharp yelp of pain.
"I'm fine."
Feeling the eyes of his companions on his back, Ronald's face went crimson. He blurted out the disclaimer and bolted.
Raygore and Felix took responsibility for looking after Melina. Until she had fully regained her senses, she could not be left to fend for herself.
"Where are you planning to stay?" Felix asked, turning to Orum.
Orum thought for a moment. "I'd like to rent a standalone house."
Felix raised an eyebrow slightly. "A standalone house? That won't come cheap."
"I have specific training requirements," Orum explained. "Practicing combat techniques in an inn tends to disturb other guests."
That was a genuine practical concern. When Orum ran through his various techniques, the commotion was considerable, and complaints from neighbors, along with the unwanted attention that came with them, were the last thing he needed.
Then there was the matter of his constitution. The relentless, almost inhuman level of energy he sustained around the clock could easily attract suspicious looks if anyone paid close attention.
That kind of unusual physical quality had to be kept concealed, especially before he had taken the measure of the more powerful presences that might be watching in a city like this.
Better to rent a house with solid walls and a private courtyard than to live under the various constraints and intrusions of an inn. It would be safer, freer, and far less likely to cause problems.
He also planned to hire a couple of cooks to handle the daily domestic work: laundry, cleaning, shopping for provisions, preparing meals.
Outsourcing those tasks would save him a great deal of time and let him focus entirely on training.
"Two days, Orum. I'll see you then." Felix smiled as they parted.
"See you then," Orum replied.
The two went their separate ways at the street corner, and Orum set off alone to find suitable lodgings.
He walked the cobblestone streets of Roen City alone, taking in his surroundings with careful attention.
The city was far more prosperous than Blackwater Town, its shops packed in dense rows along every street, the foot traffic unceasing.
That much was obvious: Roen City was more complicated and more dangerous than anything he had grown accustomed to. He would need to watch himself.
He had a faint but persistent sense of something, a disturbance emanating from the direction of the Dark Gate far to the southeast, not fully settled, not yet. As though something significant was gathering there in silence.
That instinct told him this city might be his base of operations for a long time to come.
Finding a stable, long-term place to stay was not a luxury. It was a necessity.
Orum bought a copy of the Roen City Commercial Gazette from a young paperboy in a battered hat at the side of the road.
"Two copper, sir!"
The boy held out a hand stained with ink, his eyes bright with the eagerness of a sale.
Orum handed over the coins and unfolded the thick paper. Columns of classified advertisements filled the pages in dense rows: shops, housing, employment listings, all of it.
The property rental section alone ran to two full pages.
Everything from bare single rooms to lavish detached villas, prices ranging from a few silver coins to well over a hundred gold. Orum read carefully through each listing, looking for something that matched what he needed.
Before long, a property agency called Sun Crystal caught his attention.
The advertisement copy was professional in tone: "Thirty years of trusted property services. Let us find your ideal home."
The Sun Crystal Agency occupied a handsome three-story building in Roen City's commercial district.
The exterior walls were faced with quality white marble that caught the sunlight and gave off a smooth, warm gleam. The fittings were tasteful and precise; the brass door handle had been polished to a mirror finish.
In the wide display window, a neat arrangement of illustrated property brochures was on show, each one well produced.
Orum pushed the door open. A small bell chimed.
The interior was decorated simply and elegantly, the walls hung with detailed maps of every district in Roen City.
A young halfling fellow with remarkably sharp, lively eyes came forward at once to greet him. He was slight and compact, standing about a meter tall and looking as though he weighed no more than twenty kilograms.
He wore a dark blue business suit tailored to fit him precisely, his tie knotted without a wrinkle out of place.
His curly brown hair was combed neatly into place, and his face carried the kind of bright, practiced smile that came with professional salesmanship.
"Welcome, esteemed guest, to Sun Crystal Property!"
He introduced himself with an energy that filled the room. "I'm Toby, your premier estate agent. It's a genuine pleasure to be of service!"
Orum studied the halfling for a moment.
Members of this race typically reached adulthood at around twenty years of age, though they lived to a hundred and fifty.
Across that long span of years, their outlook never seemed to age: they kept their enthusiasm for life from first to last.
Their complexions ranged from a healthy bronze to a clear fair tone, and their hair was usually curly and ran in warm brown shades. To the eye, a halfling looked much like a human in miniature, without the distinctly different facial structure that set gnomes apart.
Halfling men rarely wore beards and tended to favor comfortable, bright, practical looks.
In temperament, the great majority of halflings leaned toward neutral or good-hearted dispositions.
They had no homeland of their own and had always lived among human cities, forming tight-knit community networks within them. Some halflings made decorated wagons their permanent homes, content to spend their lives on the road, trading as they went.
"I need to rent a standalone house," Orum said directly. "Somewhere relatively out of the way, ideally, but still with decent access to the rest of the city."
A sharp gleam passed through Toby's eyes. One quick look at Orum's bearing and dress told him everything: this was a client of means.
"You've come to exactly the right place, sir!"
He guided Orum to a comfortable sofa with practiced ease. "Sun Crystal handles exclusively high-end properties. We will absolutely find something that satisfies you!"
Toby produced a handsomely made property brochure from behind the counter. It was bound in fine vellum, thick and heavy, each page illustrated and annotated in detail.
"These are all premium properties we've carefully selected."
Orum took the brochure and began turning through it.
The first several pages showed luxury residences in the city center: opulent, well-appointed, and thoroughly lacking in privacy, surrounded on all sides by busy streets and neighboring buildings. Comfortable, but unsuited to his particular needs.
After those came a range of mid-tier properties, reasonably priced and centrally located. But the floor plans were too ordinary, without the kind of open space he needed for training.
Orum kept turning pages, a slight furrow forming between his brows.
Either the location was too busy or the layout was wrong.
Toby picked up on his client's dissatisfaction with practiced ease.
"Is there a specific requirement I should know about?"
"I need genuine privacy. Ideally a separate yard, and some distance from the nearest neighbors so that I don't disturb anyone." Orum explained.
Toby nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. What you're after is a real private domain."
He reached forward and turned to the final pages of the brochure. "There are a few more unusual properties here that might be closer to what you have in mind."
When Orum's eyes landed on the illustration of the old manor, something in him responded immediately.
The property sat in the southeastern corner of Roen City, well clear of the noise and congestion of the center.
The architecture was solid and distinguished, the entire grounds enclosed behind a high wall that created a fully self-contained private world.
The courtyard inside was spacious enough for extensive physical training. And most importantly, the surroundings were relatively quiet while the roads leading back into the main districts remained accessible.
"What about this one?" Orum asked, pointing to the illustration.
Toby's expression became slightly complicated. "It really is an exceptional property. Nearly everything about it is ideal. However..."
He paused briefly. "This one is only available for purchase. It's not available to rent."
Orum's brow furrowed. "What's the asking price?"
"Seven hundred gold coins," Toby said.
The figure gave Orum pause.
It was not beyond what he could manage, but for a professional adventurer whose life kept him constantly on the move, buying a fixed property was not a sound financial decision.
He ran the calculation quickly in his head. Seven hundred gold coins would consume the better part of his entire savings.
His work as an adventurer would take him out to hunt monsters in different parts of the world.
He could not expect to stay in any one city for long stretches at a time. A property he owned would be difficult to maintain properly in his absence.
The adventurer's life was, by its nature, unsettled. Here today, a hundred miles into the wilderness tomorrow.
Fixed property felt more like a weight around his neck than a genuine investment.
Toby had already noticed the hesitation, and with the polished reflex of a seasoned salesman he moved at once to address it.
"I completely understand your concern, sir."
He nodded with practiced sympathy. "That said, you could sell at any time after purchasing, and our properties tend to move quite well on the secondary market. The transfer taxes and fees would come to approximately one hundred gold coins."
Toby added this detail with a light touch, doing his best to make the additional cost sound trivial. "In relation to the property's appreciation potential, that hundred gold in fees is genuinely excellent value."
His tone carried the full weight of a professional who knew exactly how to make a number sound like good news.
"I'll pass," Orum said.
He shook his head and was already rising to leave.
If this agency didn't have what he needed, he would try the next one. There had to be rental options elsewhere in the city.
Toby jumped to his feet, and as he moved to intercept Orum before he reached the door, something lit up in his eyes, a sudden, almost electric animation.
"Wait! This villa has certain additional value I haven't mentioned yet!"
"Additional value?" Orum stopped. One eyebrow rose.
Toby dropped his voice, leaning in with the particular air of a man about to share something genuinely rare. "The deed to this villa comes with something quite unusual attached. It includes legal ownership of a pair of twin maids."
"Twin maids?" A clear note of surprise crossed Orum's face.
This was something he had not anticipated in the slightest.
"That's right. A pair of half-elf twin sisters, both of them young and lovely." Toby pressed on, his tone becoming more measured and deliberate.
"The Lorran family they belonged to was convicted of serious crimes. As direct blood relatives of condemned criminals, they were subject to collective punishment under the law.
Their assets were confiscated by the state and they themselves were sold into servitude to offset losses to the royal treasury."
Toby's voice dropped another degree. The subject evidently carried political sensitivity.
"Under the laws of the kingdom, they have been permanently bound to whatever party holds title to this property.
They would serve as your personal property in the full legal sense, entirely subject to your direction and disposal. All of it is completely above board."
The young halfling blinked at Orum with earnest eyes, stressing the transaction's legal standing.
The words landed in Orum's mind and set off a genuine jolt of astonishment.
Half-elf twin maids? So what he was hearing was that he would no longer have to warm his own bed at night?
Good heavens.
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~ Push the story forward with your Power Stones