“A gift from the Gallavants Merchant Consortium, Colonel!”

Colonel Vava was seated on a large feathered chair that he had custom made from the finest artisans that the Kingdom of Carmine has to offer. His own tent was less of a tent and more of a large portable house. His own soldiers would like to mock Colonel Vava as a man with no accomplishments on his own, except for the fact that he was an excellent sycophant.

“Ah, bring it in!” Colonel Vava, a man who exercised solely to keep in shape and detested reading reports barked at the staff officer who attended to him. He had silver hair and was considered good looking but many could not stand his narcissism. He was a man who thought that he had the world.

A group of servants came in, dressed in comfortable clothing, carrying exotic gifts ranging from ivory tusks to porcelain.

“Ah, give a reward to the servants!” Colonel Vava rubbed his hands together enthusiastically, looking over the new items that he can add to his hoard. He picked some of the prettiest looking items and barked the order to the staff officer, “Send these to Colonel Duffe, with my regards!”

The Staff Officer bowed, a few low ranking soldiers running in to bring those items out, led by the Staff Officer. Colonel Vava looked around his now empty tent, before reaching for one of the offerings, a chess set. Flipping it over, he slid open a false compartment and with the note in hand, he quickly read it.

Dear Colonel,

We are pleased with your latest efforts to assist our endeavours. Kindly remove the border patrols at Section C which is under General Kaffe. His men are the only ones confiscating our other shipments.

Should you succeed in removing the inflexible General Kaffe altogether, we are willing to award you greatly and bring our working relationship to a higher level.

G.M.C

Removing General Kaffe, but how? Colonel Vava tossed the note into the fire at the brazier. General Kaffe is one of the old guard and even as much as Colonel Duffe does not like that man and General Kaffe’s authority has been reduced to a mere outpost, he still commands immense respect among the rank and file.

What can he do?

Colonel Vava, drinking an amazing vintage wine, pondered over how to oust General Kaffe, whose nickname “Poison Dwarf” was reflecting his short stature but stubborn defensive tactics. It was not as if Colonel Vava was a fool. He had done his own background checks into the Gallavants Merchant Consortium and he knew very well what he was getting into.

However, he always lived by one single life policy.

“Always come down on the right side,” Colonel Vava muttered to no one in particular and as if making an invisible toast, he raised his goblet and took a sip of wine.

Today, Lawrence had big plans. He wanted to take a break by 4pm tonight. He had been hacked at, shot at among other horrible things the other day. He was supposed to survey the mines and that was it.

But…

“Yes… There is a copper mine there…” Lawrence said, exasperated, having been dragged around by Roland and Quenya, with the latter having dual appointments, not just the Chief Operations of the Guardians’ Bakery but also as personal assistant to Roland.

“Anything else? One iron mine already mysteriously built, tin and copper veins now. Did you happen to miss out a salt or mithril deposit somewhere?” Roland asked, taking off his leather gloves and wiping his perspiration on his sleeve.

Though Roland was still relatively fit, climbing up and down hills was definitely exhausting.

“… That’s it. Can I go please?” Lawrence sighed and Roland finally gave his nod of approval, turning to Quenya and giving instructions to her to pass construction orders to the local guilds. Quenya also had to issue notices to local guilds on construction requirements and make use of the bidding system in order to ensure that the costs of the various guilds in the area was competitive.

The sun had already set and the moon was in the night sky.

Lawrence went to the nearest tavern, where he was greeted by the increasingly rowdy crowd of adventurers, workers and artisans. He chose a seat near the window so he could look at the people coming and going in the streets.

“One ale!” Lawrence said loudly to the barmaid and as soon as the ale was served, Lawrence slowly enjoyed his alone time. Though Lawrence loved to socialize, he wanted his own alone time as well, just to drink ale, beer or tea and watch life go by.

“May I?”

Lawrence looked up to see a fairly tall, tanned and brunette woman pointing at the available chair at Lawrence’s table. Looking around, Lawrence realized that the only remaining chairs were extremely near or with increasingly drunk men.

“Please, go ahead,” Lawrence smiled politely and the woman nodded gratefully.

“This town is amazing, you know, are you new here as well?” the woman asked, pointing at Lawrence’s armour as the barmaid took her order of an ale.

“I’ve been here awhile. I think it is a great town as well!” Lawrence said, attempting to sound as humble as possible. The woman nodded, watching the group of people go by.

“Where did you come from?” Lawrence asked.

“Salafite, have you heard of it?” the woman answered and Lawrence noticed that she had an accent that strongly reminded her of Russians.

“Is it a desert region?” Lawrence asked, guessing from the name.

“Indeed, they are very famous for their colosseums! My name is Halafina Tark, by the way,” the woman said, offering her hand and Lawrence shook it, replying, “Lawrence Carstein.”

“Colosseums where they duel, I am assuming? What brings you to a small town like Black Bay anyway?” Lawrence asked, a small suspicion in the back of his head. Black Bay though gaining popularity shouldn’t have been something that reached even the realms beyond the sea.

Halafina’s face sank, as she sipped her ale quietly.