Torvyn, the leader of the Raven's Gate Caravan Company, sat behind his cluttered desk at the reception of the caravan company's office. He was a small, old dwarf—stocky yet solid, his wide frame built more for strength than agility. His dark red hair, braided tightly into a thick beard, showed his age, but the way he carried himself—alert, steady, and sharp—made it clear that he was still in his prime, despite the years. His eyes, pale blue like frosted glass, shone with the sharp intelligence of a man who had seen far too much in his time.
A small wooden pipe was perched between his lips, wafting fragrant smoke into the air as he studied the objects laid out before him. The scent of pine, faint but pleasant, filled the room, contrasting the rather gruff demeanor of the dwarf. The items in front of him—three pendants of varying design and color—seemed almost ordinary at first glance. But Torvyn knew better. They were far more than simple trinkets. They held power. One that had not been appraised yet.
He leaned closer to the pendants, narrowing his eyes as he traced the faint lines of essence that shimmered almost imperceptibly around the edges of the items. Appraisal was no simple task. It was an art form, a rare technique passed down through the generations, and Torvyn had spent his life perfecting it. He had the ability to sense the latent essence within an item, to understand its rank, sockets, and potential without ever attuning it to himself. This was a gift, and it had made him one of the most sought-after appraisers in the entire region.
He puffed thoughtfully on his pipe, leaning back in his chair. Appraising was a delicate process, akin to solving a complex puzzle. It wasn't just about identifying the essence within; it was about feeling it, understanding its potential and limitations without letting it take hold of him. Boons in the Tower were fickle things. Once a boon was attuned, it was bound to the Fatewalker, unable to be transferred or sold. So, knowing what an item could do before it was attuned was paramount. A poorly appraised item could be worthless—or it could be priceless, depending on what an appraiser found.
The pendants shimmered subtly as Torvyn considered them, each one containing secrets of its own. He let out a slow sigh, blowing smoke from his nose as he reached out to touch one of them. His fingers grazed its surface, and for a brief moment, he could sense the potential locked inside—four sockets, incredibly rare in nature. But there was more… something deeper.
Interesting, he thought, furrowing his brow.
Just then, the bell above the door jingled, interrupting his concentration. His eyes darted to the entrance, where his initial curiosity about the visitor quickly turned to an expression of aloof disdain as the door opened.
"Well, great," he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for the newcomers to hear.
"Look who decided to show her face again."
*****
Kael and Elowen stepped into the small office of the Raven's Gate Caravan Company, and Kael immediately felt the tension. The room was dimly lit, filled with the earthy scent of the herbal smoke. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with strange items, relics, and maps of places Kael couldn't begin to recognize. But what caught his attention most was the man behind the desk—an old man, smaller than anyone Kael had ever seen, with a scowl that looked permanently etched onto his face.
"Well, great. Look who decided to show her face again," the man grumbled, not bothering to look up from the pendants he was appraising.
Kael blinked in surprise, taken aback both by the man's tone and his appearance. He had never met anyone like this before—let alone someone so small yet so obviously full of authority and presence. He hadn't even realized people could be this short.
"How small can a person actually be…?" Kael muttered under his breath, the thought slipping out before he could catch it.
Instantly, the man's head snapped up, and his pale blue eyes locked onto Kael with a glare that could have frozen fire. Elowen, standing beside Kael, bit her lip, stifling a laugh as she tried to cover her mouth.
"Oi, boy," the man growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"You got a problem with dwarves, or are you just wet behind the ears?"
Kael stiffened, his face flushing with embarrassment.
"I—I didn't mean—"
"D.w.ar.v.e.s," the old dwarf repeated with exaggerated patience.
"You do know what a dwarf is, don't you?"
Kael's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Dwarf? What's that supposed to mean?"
The dwarf let out a long-suffering sigh, his eyes rolling skyward as if he were silently pleading for patience.
"Where did you find this one?" he asked Elowen, turning his annoyed glare toward her.
Elowen smirked, crossing her arms.
"Picked him up in the Grey Area. He's… well, he's a bit green."
Torvyn groaned, rubbing a hand over his face as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Green? He's bloody clueless."
Kael, still trying to shake off his embarrassment, opened his mouth to defend himself but quickly shut it. He had a feeling he'd already put his foot in it too deeply. Elowen, clearly enjoying the exchange, winked at Kael before turning back to Torvyn.
"Torvyn, we need your help," Elowen said, her tone shifting to something more serious.
The dwarf grunted, leaning back in his chair.
"Of course you do. You always need something. What is it this time?"
"We need passage," Elowen continued, cutting straight to the point.
"Safe passage out of the region. He's heading to the Argent Academy."
Torvyn raised an eyebrow, his expression flickering with mild interest.
"The Academy? That's a long journey. And dangerous, especially for someone as green as him."
"I know," Elowen admitted.
"But that's why I'm here. Can you help us or not?"
The dwarf puffed thoughtfully on his pipe, eyeing Kael up and down with the same level of scrutiny he'd given the pendants earlier. He took his time, clearly weighing his options, before finally exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"It'll cost you," he said at last, turning his sharp eyes back to Elowen.
"Of course it will," she replied with a sigh.
"Just name the price."
Torvyn grinned, a sly glint in his eye.
"For you, Elowen? It'll be double."
Kael's jaw nearly dropped, but Elowen didn't even flinch. She simply nodded, as if she had expected nothing less.
"Fine," she said.
"Just make sure the transport is ready by tomorrow."
Torvyn nodded, turning back to the pendants on his desk.
"You'll have your passage," he muttered, already losing interest in the conversation.
"But don't expect any favors next time. I'm running a business, not a charity."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Elowen replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
With that, she motioned for Kael to follow her out of the office. As they stepped back onto the street, Kael couldn't help but glance back at the small, grumpy dwarf still puffing away on his pipe. He was still a bit bewildered by the whole exchange, not sure what had just happened.
"Don't mind him," Elowen said as they walked away.
"He's always like that. But he's the best there is when it comes to getting things done."
Kael nodded, still not entirely sure what he'd just witnessed. But at least now, he had a plan—or at least part of one.
As they walked down the busy streets of Feysreach, Kael couldn't help but wonder what kind of adventure lay ahead—and whether he was truly ready for it.