’Interesting... maybe something that the Lord should know about.’

"I see. Then, the next question. From what I know, the House of Morvayn is supposed to be quite the righteous house. But I met a few guardsmen during the day, and the townsfolk seemed quite afraid of them. Why’s that?"

"Ah, you met one of the noble brats, did ya not? Hmph! Aye, the Morvayns are just rulers—at least, the direct line is. The brat you met is likely part of Volkov’s boys gang. He is the nephew of the current head of the house. His father is the army commander. He and his entourage are quite disliked, especially in the lower docks."

"A noble? But... why?" Confusion and interest sparkled in Resven’s eyes as he continued.

"The brat doesn’t like the ’smell’ of us common folk, and he believes we’re just a waste of space. But despite all of the hate... there’s not really many men who would teach the bastard a lesson. Ya know... with dad being commander and all. The spoiled rat just doesn’t like the look of us, is all." The barman spat to the side in disgust as he spoke of the man, which intrigued Resven.

"And nobody has tried to intervene?"

"Aye, there have been a brave soul or two, not anymore though. The whole Volkove line is damn rats! The ones that did stand out silently disappeared a few days later each time... no evidence but the docks know who is responsible. So we hide and give way, trying to attract as little attention as possible."

"But no one from House Morvayn intervenes? I find that quite conflicting with what you just told me about them..." Resven had a raised brow as he aired his question.

"There are many from the House of Morvayn that do, the rat bastards wouldn’t dare cause trouble like this when the Lord is home, or his daughter for that fact. But the Mormaer has not been seen for two weeks; the story is that he has left the city to hunt a beast for his advancement... As for his daughter, nobody has seen Lady Thalia for almost the same amount of time." The barkeep sighed as he cleaned a glass he had fetched from somewhere.

"Any rumours going around regarding their departure, both the Lord and the Lady?" Piqued, Resven leaned forward and asked with curiosity.

"Many as salt in the sea, most of them a load of rubbish... however a few are quite convincing. The Lord has gathered his personal army and they have gone to kill a Green tier Primal, so he took many of the men who stand up for us small folk with him... as for Lady, not many rumors float around her, I’m afraid. Some say she joined the raid, some said she is locked in the great halls busy with city affairs... some even say she has left to adventure on the open sea..."

"Green? The Lord intends to break through to Green tier... mhmm, interesting," he whispered to himself. "Well, then. Thank you for your time... I would like to stay for one more night, then I’m off in the morning..."

The next two days were a bit of a blur as Bramm and his men continued on with their same daily routine. Bramm continued to train, focusing on increasing his strength and building a few more log cabins when he could.

Mestin and Keren would venture into the woods and hunt some beasts, although in the last two days, they were only able to find two beasts in total, even with a whole two days of searching.

A light red primal and a true red primal, both of which gave Bramm a nice boost in renown, bringing his total renown up to 300.

Of which he decided not to spend anything yet. As for Resven, he had set out early in the morning on the second day to return to the High Reach, wanting to deliver Bramm all the information he had gathered as swiftly as possible.

Mestin and Keren were out on their daily route. Today, they were going to venture into the forest a bit deeper than the previous days, and whilst they could confidently say they had almost cleared out most of the Red-tier beasts in the last few days in the southern and eastern area, beasts could roam into the area at any given moment.

It was still early in the morning, and the sun’s rays had long ago started breaking through the thick canopy of trees looming overhead. And as Mestin moved deeper into the woods, he felt Keren grab his shoulder.

Looking over his shoulder with a raised brow, he saw Keren with his finger on his mouth, meant to silence him.

"Hear voices... off t’ the left. A fair few o’ them, too. Best check it out, I reckon. Just in case."

With a nod from Mestin, they set off to the side, lurking and even crouching through the underbrush as they moved.

It didn’t take long before the sound of voices got louder and louder, and they came across a small ridge. Standing on top of the ridge, the two were able to look down at the group traveling through the woods without any care for the dangers that could possibly lurk in the shadows of the dense forest.

"Merchant caravan? Here? Aint even a proper trail for their kind, yet they’re pushin’ through. Clatterin’ about like that... they’ll be lucky if a large primal doesn’t pay ’em a visit for the noise they’re makin’. May Ocen save ye," he muttered with a sharp snort and a mock sign of prayer, lookin’ down at the lot of ’em with a scowl. "Fool’s luck is all they’ve got."

"Mhmm... don’t seem like locals. That banner down there... it’s a strange one. Not a mark I’ve seen in these parts before." Mestin muttered softly, his eyes fixed on the banner swaying in the wind as they moved. It was a field of Deep Slate Grey with a Twin-Peak Crown in white. When they were back at the cabin, Bramm had taken the time to quickly tell them how to identify the colors and banners of the two great houses.