Arvid did not rise up, as his gaze lifted slowly from the parchment before him.
"What have we here," Arvid said, voice deep and steady. "The nephew my brother cast aside seeks counsel."
Vlad stepped forward, snow melting faintly from his boots onto the stone floor.
"I am here to present an opportunity," he replied.
Arvid leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocked.
"Out with it then."
Vlad met his uncle's eyes without hesitation. "In Snowfall, we fight storms and raiders alike. Grain rots in some settlements and yet others are left to starve. Iron is forged in excess in the north, but tools are scarce in the south. The barter trade system is performing poorly, I propose we control that exchange."
The hall grew silent.
Arvid's gaze did not wander from the parchment "You wish to do this?" Arvid asked. "You, who was nearly killed by a bunch of drunken vagrants?"
"I have failed as a blade," Vlad admitted. "I will not fail as a broker."
The older man's fingers tapped once against the wooden table. "Profit from roads choked off by the snow?" Arvid said. "How are caravans supposed to travel through hail?"
Vlad stepped closer to the maps laid out before them.
"We know the routes better than any merchant guild. They are no small number of warriors who seek silver that have not been enlisted for war. Escorts can be hired and reliable routes could be marked. Establish storage houses near the river crossings, so that travelers will pay to use them."
Arvid's eyes narrowed slightly.
Ruth watched from near the doorway, hands clasped tightly before her.
"If this fails," Arvid said slowly, "you will carry not only your own shame, but mine."
Vlad did not hesitate.
"The gods shall surely smile upon us."
Arvid regarded him for several long breaths.
At last, the older man gave a short nod. "You will draft a travel plan. I am giving you three days, If it lacks merit….. You will return to swinging wood in the yard."
Vlad inclined his head once more, "Understood."
As he stepped back from the table, the faint crackle of the hearth filled the chamber.
Outside, the wind roared against Everglade's walls. Within Vlad's mind, the path forward had already begun to take shape.
The young man did not travel to his residence, but headed for the local market district.
If he wanted to create a concise travel plan, Vlad had to speak with actual traders to further his own horizons.
The hearth behind Arvid gave a low crackle as Vlad stepped away from the long table, while the scent of burning resin clung to his cloak.
Several maps remained spread across the oak surface, their edges pinned by iron weights shaped like wolves.
Arvid had already lowered his gaze back to parchment, dismissing him without another word.
Ruth followed him out of the hall.
"You truly believe this can work?" she asked once the doors closed behind them with a heavy thud.
Vlad adjusted the fur on his shoulders.
"Belief will not move caravans," he replied. "Commodities will."
She studied him carefully.
There was no trace of the uncertain youth she had known.
His stride held prestige now, focused and committed.
Snow battered the outer steps as they exited the manor. Meanwhile, the wind drove flakes across the courtyard.
Relentless gale began pressing cloaks tight against armor.
Warriors crossed paths carrying bundles of wood and sacks of grain, boots crunching through frost-packed stone.
~Crunch… crunch…~
Vlad did not turn toward his assigned quarters.
Instead, he descended the slope that led toward Everglade's lower district.
The market lay near the river bend, where barges anchored during calmer months.
Even during frozen winter months, the place did not sleep. Traders from scattered settlements had erected thick canvas stalls reinforced by timber beams.
Smoke drifted from braziers placed at intervals to fend off the cold.
The scent of cured meat, wet leather, and stale ale mingled in the air.
Voices rose above the wind.
"Two pelts for that grain? You insult me!"
"Then starve, you stubborn ox!"
Vlad slowed his pace, observing.
Barter trade.
Everything moved by exchange of goods rather than Gold or Silver.
A woman with red hair stood arguing with a blacksmith over iron nails.
A farmer struggled to calculate how many sacks of barley equaled one spare wheel axle.
Precious time was wasted in debate.
'All this disorder,' Vlad thought. 'There has to be a way to alter this trend of incessant deliberation over value.'
Ruth remained at his side, her breath fogging before her lips. "Most of them resent the Salver name," she murmured. "They believe we take more than we give."
"Then we shall give them a reason to feel otherwise," Vlad answered.
He approached a stall where an older merchant stood behind crates of dried fish stacked neatly in rows.
The man's beard was threaded with grey, his nose crooked from a poorly fought brawl.
"You there," the merchant called as Vlad neared. "If you've come to seize taxes early, you will leave with fewer teeth."
Ruth stiffened.
Vlad raised one hand calmly,"Worry not sir, I have not come to seize anything."
The merchant's eyes narrowed. "You are from the house of Salver."
"I am," Vlad admitted. "And I am here to ask a few questions."
The man snorted. "Your curiosity better be worth my time."
Vlad picked up a dried fish from the crate, weighing it in his hand before placing it back with care, "How long have you been trading here?"
"Twenty winters."
"And how long does it take you to exchange your stock for grain?"
The merchant hesitated, then shrugged. "when fortune is in my favor…. Two winters, but the gods have not been kind recently."
"And how often do you leave the market district with a deficit?" Vlad raised an eyebrow in response.
The old merchant's jaw tightened, "Often enough."
Vlad nodded slowly. "If grain could be purchased directly with silver at a fixed rate, would you prefer that?"
The older man's brow creased. "Silver?" He wiped his hands on his apron. "Silver does not grow on trees."
"It can be earned," Vlad replied. if excess profits go to escorted caravan, in addition to secure routes. We may even have storage huts, where goods could be weighed and valued before they reach local markets."
The merchant studied him longer this time, "You speak as though such things have already been organized."
"Not yet."
"Ahhh!" A shout erupted from the far end of the market.
~Crash!~
A crate overturned, apples scattering across snow.
Vlad turned his head.
Two burly men grappled near a stall of wool cloth, one of them had seized the other by the collar and drove him backward into a timber post.
"Dirty pig! How dare you cheat me!" The larger man roared.
The slender trader swung wildly.
~Thwack!~
His fist connected with the larger man's jaw.
The impact staggered him half a step before he retaliated with a heavy shove, "Ugh!" The wooden post splintered slightly under the force.
Onlookers backed away, muttering gossip and slander.
Vlad stepped forward without any further consideration.
Ruth reached for his sleeve. "Leave it—"
But his feet were already in motion.
"Die bastard!" The larger man drew a short blade from his belt.
Steel flashed.
~Shing!~
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
The thinner trader stumbled backward, slipping on a crushed piece of fruit.
Vlad closed the distance swiftly.
As the blade came down, he caught the attacker's wrist mid-swing.
"Huh!" The impact jarred his arm, but he twisted sharply, forcing the man's elbow inward.
~Crack!~
The blade fell into the snow.
"Foolish child!" The larger man snarled and swung his free fist toward Vlad's face.
Vlad ducked beneath it and drove his knee upward into the man's midsection.
~Thud!~
"Rrrgh…" A low grunt escaped from the attacker's lungs as he folded forward.
Without pause, Vlad seized the man's collar and flung him sideways into a stack of crates.
~Bang!~
Wood collapsed under the weight, fish spilling across the ground.
"Stay back!" The thinner trader scrambled away on hands and knees.
Vlad planted his boot over the fallen blade and looked down at the groaning man.
"Disputes will be settled without steel," he said evenly. "Or you will leave without goods."
The crowd watched carefully.
One of the market guards hurried over, spear in hand. "What is all this commotion!?"
The merchant Vlad had spoken to earlier stepped forward, "A bunch of drunkards that just lost their senses."
The guard eyed Vlad, then the Salver crest at his shoulder.
"Do not cause another fuss," the guard muttered, hauling the larger man upright.
As the troublemakers were dragged away, murmurs passed among the traders.
Vlad turned back to the older merchant.
"What use is there remaining like this?" he said quietly. "Chaos wastes product and injuries waste time, A proper trading system benefits us all."
The merchant wiped snow from his crate and gave a slow nod. "If you manage to convince a few other traders," he said, "You will have my ear."
Vlad inclined his head and began to walk away.
Ruth approached him.
The meek girl's expression was largely unsettled, "You could have been injured further…"
"I was fortunate that my combatant lacked cognition or balance," Vlad replied curtly.
Yet inside his mind, he pondered the encounter.
'Strength can command loyalty and diligence… if used with discretion.'
Snow continued to fall as he moved deeper into the market, observing common units of weight and measurements along with exchanges facilitated largely through arguments.
He spoke to fur trappers, wagon drivers, and a young woman who recorded daily transactions in a worn leather book
Vlad was impressed by her skill to bind books using cotton thread and steel needles.
After instructing ruth to familiarize herself with the young woman, Vlad left to inspect storage huts planted near the river bend.
Trading stock were assigned and disseminated to merchants by the Jarl each season.
Idle warriors spent their days drinking at the local inn, while priests and Harold's flocked onto the streets disseminating religion and news.
Vlad even had the chance to interact with an old treasurer, who had been serving under a nearby earl.
The horizon widened before him, as he recognized the opportunity that presented itself
All the pieces on the board were beginning to come together, a web of checkpoints and trading leases waiting to be erected across this frigid continent.
As dusk crept over Everglade, braziers were fed fresh coals, their flames rising higher against the deepening sky.
Vlad stood near the riverbank, watching ice drift along the current. He would soon return to his lodgings to begin further preparations.