Under the cold moonlight.
Two guards of the Rossad Chambers of Commerce were on patrol. Because the Chamber of Commerce stored quite a lot of goods, the security here had always been very strict. The timing of the patrol was quite exhausting. Two not so young guards were chatting and discussing which hooker's shop in the Port Tylon had prettier unlicensed prostitutes. Basically, after entering the middle ages, those men who rely on their fighting prowess to earn a living would turn to more stable jobs. Those who head out to sea were mostly younger guards. The older ones stayed behind to guard because they needed more experience.
The shadow in the dark twisted for a moment.
