Dar interrupted our conversation with his approach.

“We can now leave for the city.” proclaimed Dar.

“Enjoy the breakfast,“ I wished Arlene before joining the peddler.

The peddler led me through a few winding muddy paths before the path converged to a well-traversed street. He took a deviation before the main road running towards the city entrance gate.

“I thought we were about to enter Westerleygates.”

“We will go to the main city but first to get the things that I promised,” Dar again wore his friendly face.

“The woollen cloaks and the beddings are cheaper here than inside. Though the tent material, I know not anyone who sells them in the outer settlements.” He elaborated further.

After a few more turns, Dar stopped in front of a small store. The street was not pavemented but it was well maintained. Outside the store hanged a sign with a sheep and shear. Dar went inside without knocking and the peddler was greeted immediately with a jovial voice.

“Dar, good tidings. How fares your journey?” echoed a loud voice.

The voice belonged to a lanky man with greying hair.

“Greeting Daryn, Feels good to step in your stores. Always welcoming.” Dar was full of smiles and he grasped the man called Daryn’s arms tightly.

The two exchange pleasantries as it is the norm with old friends before Daryn turned his attention towards me.

“This is Lady Rylonvirah of The Aberrant Irregulars. I am actually here because of a promise to her.” Dar again started by assigning me a title.

“Oh, you made a promise to a Lady,” Daryn gave a mischievous but friendly smile.

“Not in a way you think. She was my saviour. Her band got me out of a troublesome situation.” Again Dar had the presence of mind to not elaborate on the exact terms.

Daryn for his part just nodded to his friend.

“So what can I do for you both?” asked Daryn.

“You are a wool seller. What do you think I am here for? Unless you also provide silk and velvet.” Dar retorted back.

“Yes, Wool. Of course. How much are you looking for?” Daryn grinned back.

Dar explained the size and the number. Daryn patiently listened and at the end, he spoke, “I have the woollen material you need but I would require time to prepare the cloaks in the size you specified. Give me three days.”

The rest of the conversation revolved around haggling. I followed their conversation with interest for a bit since after a few moments it was clear that these two were engaged in a battle of a different sort. Every offer was countered with an alternative offer with each attempting to gain the better of the other. It was almost like two warlords seeking to gain control over territories except they fought with words.

In the end, Dar was satisfied with the end-result of his haggling. Daryn promised to send the finished cloaks in two days. Daryn for his part seemed pleased with the monetary gain from the sale.

Leaving Daryn’s store our next destination, as selected by Dar, was a weaponsmith’s shop.

The peddler followed the same ritual by greeting the weapon seller along with friendly banter. Dar then displayed one of the swords for the weapon seller to assess. Then the verbal battle known as haggling continued till a deal in which both the parties felt like they have won, was reached.

As we exited the weapon sellers shop Dar seemed pleased with his haggling.

“For the next item on the list, we would need to enter the city.” proclaimed Dar as he continued his pacing in the direction of the city entrance.

The city guards ignored our presence as we crossed the threshold into the city. Their piercing gaze was preoccupied with the array of loaded merchant wagons which lined along the entrance.

Contrary to the distant view of Westerleygates, the city itself was surrounded by a city wall. Though the surrounding buildings in the outer district predominated the perceived landscape. Once we were safely behind the city walls, the scene in the inner district was nothing out of the ordinary. The streets were pavemented with cobblestones. The buildings closer to the entry gates were dull and grey. Not well maintained but still functional and served their purpose. As we walked further, a non-descriptive fountain adorned one of the many squares that Westerleygates had to offer.

I fell behind Dar, letting the experienced peddler guide the way. Dar moved swiftly through the city, ignoring the hawkers and runners who attempted to make a bit more coin from our presence.

“May I suggest that we have lunch, before our next destination?” It was more of a suggestion than a question.

“But let us keep it something very simple, and you are paying,” I went with his suggestion, partly due to the reason at this very moment, I realised that I do not have coins of any nation or denomination with me. Essentially for all the Lady titles that Dar addressed, I am a pauper.

“Of course, I am a gentleman. Would never let the Lady pay?” The peddler grinned widely as he declared.

“Ah, yes.” I decided to leave it at that. I was certain that Dar would not take this joke any further.

The establishment that Dar took us was called The Overflowing Goblet. I had a suspicious feeling that Dar selected this inn for a specific reason which became evident the moment we stepped in. Or rather, it became apparent once I laid my eyes on the patrons. Mercenaries.

“I usually do not frequent this inn but I felt that you might feel at ease here,” explained Dar.

I purposefully selected a vacant empty table with a clear view of the street. Dar seated himself opposite to me and beckoned the waitress.

“You place the order, Dar. I am fine with anything.”

Dar acknowledged my wish with a wave of his hand and he placed an order. While we waited for our order to arrive, I engaged Dar in small talk to pass the time.

“How long do you plan to stay here?”

“Maybe seven to ten days. Will ask around till I find a good caravan master. I would stick with larger groups.” Dar slumped as he spoke.

“Definitely a wise plan. There is strength in numbers. But will you recover from this? I mean financially”

“Oh. Actually, I made a bargain on the weapons left. If I could cut a deal on the tent and beddings, then I could live off the profit for three or four moons, and a few more if I am frugal. Though the armour is where I expect to make a real gain that is if I can find a willing buyer.”

The waitress returned with two bowls filled with warm stew. She returned again with two flagons filled with frothy ale. I took a mouthful of the soup and immediately gobbled the rest. It was not the delicious meal I ever had but it was the most savouring meal that was offered to me in the past few days. Dar for his part consumed his meal at a moderate pace.

I was halfway through my flagon of ale when I spotted Razzia moving up the streets. For an untrained eye, she was indistinguishable from any of the other women on the streets. She kept her profile low and moved with a briskness of a runner on an errand. I would have not spotted her had it not been for the conversation that I had with Arlene. The ranger’s statement placed me in a vigilant mode.

“Dar, let us convene at our next meeting place. There is something I must do alone.” I made my excuse.

“Sure, let us meet at the dreambridge fountain,” replied Dar. Despite the fact that I have no knowledge of the mentioned fountain, I gave an affirmative nod to dar and finished the rest of my ale in a gulp.

I trailed Razzia from a distance. She kept her swift pace but her gait made it unquestionably obvious that she was keeping a keen watch on her surrounding. She would occasionally, stop and wander near a street merchant or a hawker seemingly eyeing their wares and questioning them. She stole those moments to glance around and gauge people in her vicinity. Unfortunately for her, I am well versed in those arts of trailing informants. After all, the drows invented the art of subterfuge.

She proceed further faster into a well maintained quarter of the Westerleygates. The streets were wide and without doubt, regularly scrubbed. Tall street lamps adorned either side of the streets in a periodic fashion. Houses on either side of the streets gave way to huge well-walled mansions. Private guards regularly patrolled through the gardens surrounding those mansions. The quarter was less populated than the previous parts of the city.

I stopped myself from trailing Razzia and opted to maintain a bit of distance between myself and my query. This is no doubt the Noble district of Westerleygates and if she were a typical panhandler, Noble district is the last place for her.

I wandered around the Noble district for a few moments trying to indirectly infer the target of Razzia’s action. At a distance, two patrolling guards marched towards me. They wore the uniform of the city guards and since my previous encounter with the guards in Meranvale was not the ideal experience, I prepared myself for the unexpected.

“Are you, perhaps, lost? If you could name the Lord you are looking for we would gladly help?” The guards volunteered.

“Actually, I am waiting for a sign. In my line of work, people normally do not invite me to their parlour.”

“ah, You are new to Westerleygates then. Then let me remind you, our Lady does not tolerate the hidden games that most Nobles play. especially not within the city. I understand you are not in a position to refuse a summon from someone powerful, but this is not tolerated in Westerleygates.” His voice was stern and full of authority. There was a hinge of pride as he mentioned the city’s name.

“There you are. Sorry to keep you waiting,” sounded a familiar voice from a distance, “The deal is finished. You are in.” Nemeash rushed towards us.

“Sorry for the trouble, guardsmen. My business took longer than planned,” He delivered his apology.

We extracted ourselves from the city guards and moved back towards the commercial district. Nemeash moved with urgency and he scanned his surrounding as he promptly covered the distance. He was on the edge.

“Glad I ran into you.” He finally spoke once he was certain that he was not being watched.

“I thought you were about to meet a friend,”

“Yes, It was not a fruitful meeting. May I request a bit of your effort when you are in Sarenthill? It is nothing huge. I have a correspondence to do. Could you please deliver my letter?” He pleaded.

“What is it about? I would rather keep my hands clean,” I gave him another chance.

“Nothing illegal or morally questionable, I assure you. In fact, the letter is for Leyandur and associates. They are a kind of well-known lawyers in Sarenthill. I have some family property and they are handling it. The correspondence is just some legal formality. Could you please help?” He wiped the sweat from his brow as he explained.

“I am busy now.” I did not want to miss Razzia but at the same time, I did not want to miss the opportunity with Nemeash.

“I will leave a note with Maapu,” I formulated a plan in my head. “let us discuss it later in the evening.”

---

My search for Razzia was unsuccessful. After running in circles, while eluding the guards, I finally gave up and decided to meet Dar.

I stopped a few passersby to guide me towards dreambridge fountain. Dar was already waiting for me near the fountain. He waved upon seeing me approach.

“Hopefully, whatever task you had in hand was a success?”

“Not fully, do we have some time? I could like to complete one minor errand? It won’t take long. We can meet here again?”

I did not give Dar an option to choose. Without waiting for his response, I steered myself towards where the Aberrant Irregulars were waiting.

---

Arlene was the first one who noticed my urgency. She intercepted me halfway through. The ranger was about to pose a question when I stopped her midway through.

“Please find Vitalia and get her to write a note and leave it with Maapu. It is for Nemeash. He would come later.”

“I could write the note myself. I don’t know where the Provost is.” She offered her help.

“No, you cannot help in this. Find Vitalia and tell her that the note must be in Illethyri script. But to keep it simple. She should be able to write the script.”

The ranger again had a bewildered look painted all over her face but she did not bother to satisfy her curiosity.

“What should the note say?” She finally asked.

“Just to meet me way after sundown at The Overflowing Goblet inn. Remember, Illethyri script and keep it extremely simple. You are free to guide him if he needs help, but do not volunteer on your own.”

With these instructions, I quickly bid farewell again to Arlene and made my way towards the fountain.

---

Dar was more perplexed than Arlene at my sudden antics but like the ranger, he had the guile to reserve his opinions to himself. His expression was blank and vacant as the fountain he sat nearby.

“Let us proceed,” I said as I got closer to the peddler.

Without waiting for a response, he got up and I quickly fell behind. The peddler led me through a few turns, till he stopped in front of another store with a simple wooden door that stood widely ajar.

The shopkeeper turned out to be balding with a slightly bulging waistline but not obese. He greeted the two of us upon seeing us step into his shop. Dar again started the buying process. We avoided all the elegant designed fabrics meant more as a show of prosperity in tourneys rather than for its practicality. We also rejected the more practical ones which were meant as a field office. Since Arlene was fairly competent as a ranger, I put my faith in her to find a workable solution in the forest and plains. Hence we opted for a simple fabric and some ropes.

The shopkeeper was not amused when he realised that Dar was a peddler. He immediately recognised that haggling would prove an upscale battle but he still persisted as any good trader would. In the end, Dar finalised the sale and we left the shop with instructions to deliver the materials to our temporary camping place.

Once we were out of the shop, Dar cleared his voice, “I have kept my side of the promise. I am not sure what you have planned but I would now return. I have promised to repair the barn.”

“Please do go ahead, I will do a bit more in the city. I would like to explore the city myself,”

“Tomorrow, I can try to introduce you to a few people who might need your services.”

“That would be wonderful.”

We parted ways.

I amused myself in the city exploring the various sights all the while, I let my wanderlust take control of my action which in turn led me to wander aimlessly. Passed through a few squares with statues of nameless heroes or gods erected in the centre. I attempted to read through a few of those inscriptions hoping to gain an insight into the history of the city. On one of the squares which were clearly far well maintained than the rest, the inscription was fairly legible. It was dedicated to Bevan Wysteria, the purge of the Verdant hegemony or so the inscription claimed. Most likely, an ancestor to the current regional lord. The statue itself was fairly nondescript but it still claimed respect from the passersby. That much was evident.

I loitered around the city for a bit more before I felt that it would be an appropriate time to reach my rendezvous. I slowly tracked my way to The Overflowing Goblet.

The inn was packed more than it was during my earlier visit. This served my purpose all the more. My empty pouch, for one, was a good reason. The better if I am ignored. I swiftly stepped into the inn and sought a free place. Seated me and waited for the trap to be sprung.

The other patrons mostly ignored me. A few others carefully gauged me from a distance. The waitress was busy with the other clients. Not that I would have needed their attention. I am broke. Two of the patrons approached me. One wanted to know if I was interested in their services while another attempted to recruit me to their band.

I warded off both the parties and kept my head low. My eyes always darted towards the entrance whenever someone stepped in.

Nemeash was on schedule as he entered. He looked around his shoulders and his eyes darted around making a full sweep before walking in further. Once inside, he scanned the inside of the inn again. Not so much as to seek me but he had the eyes the alertness of a cornered prey.

I waved to gain his attention. He made one more sweep before he moved to my table.

“It was a strange choice. You wrote the note in archaic High-elven tongue.” He gave a weak smile.

“You know what is even more strange,” I uttered while a wicked grin formed on my lips, “that you were able to read and understand an almost dead archaic language. There is more to you than what you make it seem to be. You owe me an explanation.”