The stormy night incessantly ravage through the dark slums, damaging many shelters and falling down rubbles which were remnants of the previous windy storm which had almost destroyed a large section of the western part of the city. The dark cloud shrouded the moon in the sky with flashes of lightening coupled with series of thunder that resounded loudly in the cold air, almost shaking the foundation of the city. The whole city quaked in fear and trembled tremendously at the impact of the storm while everyone secured shelter in their domicile by putting up barricades to protect themselves from the terrible storm which began to pour down red rain upon the whole city.
The annual red rain always occur as a result of the red sand dust from the valley of red sand located before the northern borderlands of Tyron. The dust regularly mixed with the mist thereby dissolving its red pigment which evaporates together to the condensed hemispheres which paints the clouds red each time it has fully gathered enough to send sufficient amount of red rain down to the dry coarse soil. A figure in the dark night plodded through the rain In the dark alleys as the storm raced upon the city as it plumes down with windy force coupled with hard red rain which slams small rounded windows of major buildings in the city. Trying to find shelter away from the storm, the figure in shape of a male Patrox, moved towards a tavern but found its doors totally shut. Then the Patrox saw a large cloak that was thick with grey cambric that was hung on an iron loop under the corrugated roof by the left corner which was unaffected by the heavy impact of the stormy winds.
He took the cloak and shrouded his body which had withstood the terrible storm ever since he came to this area of the city in search of his companions who had left him behind. He climbed up the slippy stairs adjacent to the main entrance into another raised platform that had three steps upwards and sheltered himself under the corrugated rooftop while he gazed into the dark alleys that was beaten up ferociously by the red rain as the lightening gleamed through the dark night illuminating some scattered rubbles lying under the rain coupled with the harsh clashing sounds of the thunder. He stood there for a while quite spellbound by the frightening but enthral scene which depicted the clashing of forces in natural phenomenon which operates in the realm. As he gazed on in awe he stood under the roof which hardly protected him from the storm, a merchant trade entourage processed under the red rain towards the main entrance fully drenched by the rainstorm except for the silver palanquin they carried amidst them. They had sojurned through the outlands in order to expand their business and had arrived in the city before the rainstorm began to fall. The rainstorm had delayed as well as prevented them from arriving at their domain prolonging the moon days they had anticipated to return back to Tyron.
The trade group was led by the heiress of the Magrod clan that held a powerful influence on the sale of goods in city, which was made possible by the council decision to grant them more trade rights to purchase and sell their goods as well as trade with other clans within and outside the city. The head of the clan, Magus zandon a quite renowned Motclux, had organize and successfully operated his trade group during the reign of the late chief's predecessor but suffered a great loss of profits when the plague was ravaging the city especially in the central section, which almost crippled his merchant clan. His goods which were sculptural decors and antiques that were exquisitely crafted were very much preferred in market by affluent plebs than other products due to its durability which brought him a lot of profits but sadly ceased to be valued in the market due to the devestating impact of the plague, that made many plebs turned all their attention and resources into other commodities that would safeguard them from the plague.
He slowly revived his means of earning profits after securing a good deal with the Tariba clan in the city of Winters amidst the turbulent times in the realm and made a difficult decision to send his only daughter to establish new friendly ties between the two clan that has lasted for a period of ten moons as part of the agreement between them. He organized an armed entourage of skilled warriors to accompany her for the trip to Wintera in order to protect her from harm's way in the course of their journey to Wintera and when they will return back through the forest trade routes where they might be robbed by outlanders filled with savage nomadic tribes living in the mountains around the dry plains before the northern border of Tyron.
Meyol, the heiress of the trade clan had learnt how to fight from a swordmaster hired by her father in order for her to be capable enough to defend and protect herself as well as the clan during this turbulent times in the realm. She also learnt from her father, how to handle the trade affairs which sustained the prominent position of the clans as well as other small clans who greatly depend on them for their support. After the plague snatched the life of her mother when she had just gotten matured enough to assist her father run the affairs of the clan, she became a strict disciplinarian, that was tough and stern towards others which made many of their clan warriors to be afraid of her after she thoroughly defeated their head captain in a match. They encountered a lot on their way back from Wintera after successfully completed the task her father assigned to her when passing through the left route round serene green mountain which carefully led them away from the war zone taking them towards the eastern direction which paved way into the dry plains where dangerous nomadic tribes robbed and loot innocent passersby of their merchandise along trade routes that leads into the city of Tyron. Luckily for them, Meyol had prepared a backup plan before she embarked on the journey by sending a secret message to her uncle, Termez, who is a commander of a regiment stationed at the northern border to ward off enemies trying to invade the city. Having obtaining the permission of the council to move his troops from their checkpoint, he went and secure the three main trade routes with three squad which comprises three hundred combat warriors each and hid them in the three main trade routes clearly out of sight from other nomadic tribes. Termez and his forces were able to subjugate four nomadic tribes that were lurking around the trade routes in order to ambush passersby that tread on the three routes which granted Meyol and her entourage safe passage through to the routes. Termez accompanied her entourage with his remaining warriors all the way back to the northern border and departed to his camp in order to resume his official duty. The red rain clouds began to gather as they drew near to the city gates while the trade group continued their procession into the city after the cordon at the northern gate allowed them to pass through just as the rainstorm began to fall down.
Meyol alighted the silver palanquin immediately after the rain had cease to fall and gave orders to a male Sajura, who apparently was her close body guard, to negotiate with the innkeeper in order for them to rent the whole raven for them to spend the cold night. The Sajura obeyed swiftly and ascend the stairs which led him to the iron doors sealing the entrance.
"Innkeeper! Open up!", He exclaimed loudly as he hit the iron doors with his fist which resounded harshly in the cold but quiet night but there was no response from inside, "Open the door and let us in!", He shouted again hitting much harder than the last time which gave no response at all. Thinking that the tavern must've been abandoned, the Sajura came back to Meyol with no apparent success which frustrated her.
"Are you sure that this is the only tavern in the area?", Meyol asked desperately in need of sleep and rest as she was grossly weary because of the long journey.
"I don't think so but four of the guards could search for another tavern while we wait here", the Sajura replied immediately.
"Okay, send four guards to scout the area for another tavern that hasn't close yet and might be within this area", Meyol ordered looking dejected,
"Yes, mistress. I'll quickly do that while I suggest that you rest inside the palanquin until they come back", The Sajura promptly replied and turned back to carry out her command but stopped in his tracks as the iron doors which had stayed quiet all this while suddenly flung open.