The humanitarian convoy moved under the morning mist, dozens of hovertrucks humming as they passed through the torn remains of Theodor's borderlands. Soldiers of Theodor stood like statues along the road—silent, grim, but passive. This wasn't a war caravan. It was relief, and even the most hardened generals wouldn't interfere with food and medicine for starving people.
Arriel sat in the back of a hovertruck beside Kell and Lira, each dressed in practical gear, weapons hidden beneath long cloaks. The three had been assigned to Escort Group 14, charged with assisting the setup of shelters and maintaining order. Around them were crates of medical supplies, grain sacks, magical water tanks, and wrapped cloth bundles.
"I never imagined I'd step foot in Theodor this soon," Arriel muttered.
Kell shrugged, "We're not here to fight. Just to help. And maybe… find some answers."
Lira gave him a sharp look. "Let's not forget why we're really here."
They arrived at a ruined town—nameless now, just a collection of scorched stone and broken wood. The hovertrucks fanned out, and tents sprouted like mushrooms across the open square. Healer mages cast spells to create shelters, soldiers unloaded food, and adventurers like Arriel and Lira helped organize the line of civilians already forming.
By noon, the town square pulsed with activity. Children cried. Mothers wept. Old men bowed in gratitude. Lira applied healing magic on a limping boy's ankle, while Arriel handed out loaves of hard bread. Kell repaired a broken pump with the help of two engineers.
Evening fell, but the weariness in their bodies didn't outweigh the urgency of their mission.
"Time to go," Kell whispered under the flap of their supply tent.
They slipped into dark cloaks—enchanted by Lira with Veil Whisper, a basic stealth illusion. Moving past the lantern-lit streets of the relief zone, they made their way to the western edge of the ruined town. An old tavern with shattered windows loomed before them. Behind it, in a narrow alley smelling of mildew and smoke, stood Bakke.
The info broker looked as shady as ever—short, rat-faced, and dressed in fraying layers of brown and green. A thin dagger hung loosely from his belt, more for show than use. He was chewing something that reeked of bitter herbs.
"You're early," he croaked, eyeing Kell. "I don't deal well with surprises."
"You'll live," Kell replied, tossing him a pouch of 2,000 Git. "Talk."
Bakke took the pouch, bit one of the coins, then pulled out a stained map and unrolled it across a crate beside him.
"Here." He pointed to a town near the ruins of Varnhaz. "Auction house disguised as a merchant guild. Underground entrance. Passwords change nightly. Only the high-born and filth-rich can get in. Slaves—young ones, beautiful ones—they get sold for a fortune."
Arriel's fists clenched. "Who runs it?"
Bakke hesitated, then lowered his voice. "Rumor says… a royal descendant of Theodor. The kind that used to bathe in golden baths when the kingdom was falling. One of them always wears purple and a gold ring with a griffin symbol."
Lira narrowed her eyes. "Is the griffin symbol displayed anywhere at the auction?"
"No," Bakke shook his head. "Too risky. It's not on the door. But the ring? Always worn. Gold, with black enamel, shaped like a griffin roaring. You'll know if you see it."
Satisfied, Arriel nodded. "That's enough."
The three melted back into the shadows. No one stopped them. No patrols noticed.
Back at the relief camp, they entered their shared tent. Lira activated a sound barrier spell for privacy.
Kell spread the copied map on the floor. "We'll need more than a sword and some magic to get in."
Arriel folded his arms. "Disguises. A cover story. And a way to get invited."
"I'll check the local black markets tomorrow," Lira said, eyes focused. "See if any password sellers exist. I can also craft temporary illusions, give us noble disguises."
Kell exhaled slowly. "If this goes wrong…"
Lira finished the sentence, "We're as good as dead."
But none of them suggested turning back.
Outside, the relief camp flickered with lamplight. Inside, the trio of heroes quietly began planning how to infiltrate the heart of Theodor's filth.