"Five hundred silver total! A kingly sum for a kingly hunt! You’ve brought me a mountain of goods, and I’ll have the coin counted before you can even blink! What do you say? Shall we make it official, or are you just here to make an old merchant’s heart skip a beat with such craftsmanship?"

"Haha, then let’s go with that. I ain’t no merchant and there ain’t a sense in competing with you Balkas." Resven laughed heartily as he agreed.

Balkas nodded as if it were the only logical thing to say.

The group took the better half of an hour to unload before receiving their coins, which were five hundred silver talons equal to about five gold thorns.

Resven took a moment, his thoughts racing and seemingly in a dilemma, which Telarin was the first to realise, "Something wrong?" he questioned.

"Deciding on whether we should ask the halfling about something." he sighed softly, struggling, evident in his expression.

"Did I hear somebody wanting to speak with Balkas!" A second later, as if the halfling was waiting, he appeared before the group.

’Shit! Does he have the ears of elves or something?’ He cursed.

With a heavy sigh, he decided it would be best to ask, "We want to know where we could buy horses capable of trekking the mountain trails and pulling carts, and if there are any builders’ guilds who would venture into the mountains for a fee."

"Horses for the high trails and builders for the crags? You’re looking to plant roots where the stone meets the sky, aren’t you? A bold move, a very bold move indeed!" Making a serious nod, he stroked his clean-shaven chin with an amused expression.

"For the beasts, you’ll want to head over to The Iron Hoof Stable on the north edge of town. Old Gerrick breeds mountain-bred garrons—sturdy, thick-legged things that’ll pull a cart up a vertical slope and won’t spook when a pebble rolls! Tell him Balkas sent you, and he might even give you the ’friends-of-the-merchant’ rate!

"As for builders... that’s a taller order, a much taller order! You could try the Granite-Shield Guild. They’re the only ones with the grit for mountain work, but even they’ve grown... hesitant, shall we say?"

Balkas’s voice dropped, and he leaned in, his eyes darting toward the shop door as his usual manic energy shifted into a serious, hurried whisper.

"A word of warning, though—free of charge! The mountains aren’t what they were even a moon ago. The Primals... they’re restless, frequent as fleas on a stray dog and twice as mean! Most guilds won’t risk their crews or their tools past the foothills, not for all the silver in the Sunder-Coast. If you find men willing to go, they’ll be charging you ’blood-wages,’ and that’s if you can convince ’em the mountains won’t swallow ’em whole! It’s a dangerous time to be building on the heights, friends—very dangerous indeed!"

Resven’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the warning, and with a nod, he thanked Balkas, and the group set off. Whilst on their way, Telarin seemed restless. "What is it, Telarin?" 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

The man who had been shifting his gaze at the areas they passed by shook his head and spoke, "I don’t know, I have this feeling that we’re being watched."

"Haha, of course! There aren’t many people like us wandering through town that much, so the townsfolk will indeed give us a glance," Resven chuckled lightly.

"No, I mean it’s not that... I think we’re being targeted..." his voice drifted off as he again looked towards the depths of the dark alleys.

"Hmpf! If so, then welcome them, gladly," Mestin spoke with a rumble in his chest as he heaved the now-empty cart forward. Fully knowing the gazes of the townspeople were locked onto him rather than the rest of the group.

"Feels like being a pet for them to stare at," he huffed as he glided through the streets with frankly, quite the ease.

The group laughed as they continued with their journey, yet subtly underneath all that, even Resven seemed to have taken up his guard slightly more.

It took a whole hour for the men to reach the northern end of the city, where another area, which had been unknown to Resven, appeared. Unlike the rest of the city, the northern end seemed to even out and a path of field was even laid out for a few hundred feet.

"This must be the Iron Hoof Stables..." Telarin gazed at the area before his eyes landed on the signage.

"Well what are we waiting for then? Let’s go!" The man took a stride and walked right into a more decorative area.

"Hello anyone there?" he called out loudly, gazing around without much care.

"Just a moment, I’ll be right there!" a delicate voice resounded from the hall to the right. "Sorry! I just had to take care of a few things. What can I help ya gentlemen with?"

From the hallway, a girl dressed in pants and a laborer’s shirt appeared. Her face filed with a light amount of grime and sweat as she tucked away a few strands of hair behind her ear.

Her green eyes stared at Telarin with quite an expectation.

"Mhmm, we are here on recommendation from Balkas... he said we should refer to Old Gerrick? We want to buy a garron for our cart over here..." Resven took a step forward to speak, seeing as Telarin seemed unable to speak for some reason.

He pointed to the cart outside, which Mestin had finally laid down and stood guard next to it.

"Oh!" She let out an audible gasp at the size of the man before collecting herself and gazed towards the cart, "I’ll quickly go get Old Gerrick!"

With a hasty nod, she disappeared into one of the hallways.

Resven turned to face Telarin who had his eyes glued to where she had left. "Hehe, something on your mind young un?" He teased with a twinkle in his eyes.