Brawlings in the streets
The evening fog curled through Ravenshollow's narrow streets, drifting past windows shuttered tight against the encroaching dark. Tobias Dovell and Merrick Stonewell huddled together near the old well, their breaths misting in the chilly air as their whispered conversation filled the silence.
"It's getting worse," Tobias muttered, glancing nervously toward the two mercenaries loitering outside the Hollow Hearth Inn. They were part of Gregor Vane's so-called "protection," hired swords whose presence felt more like a threat than reassurance.
Merrick clenched his fists. "They've no right treating us like this. We're not criminals."
Just then, a sharp cry echoed through the village square. Tobias and Merrick spun around, hearts hammering as they saw young Rowan Fenton sprawled on the muddy ground, eyes wide with fear as one of the mercenaries loomed over him.
"Watch where you're going, runt!" sneered the guard, nudging Rowan roughly with his boot.
"Leave him be!" shouted Merrick, his voice shaking with anger and adrenaline. The mercenary turned slowly, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.
"Or what, farm boy?" he mocked, stepping menacingly forward.
Tobias felt frozen, heart pounding wildly, until a calm but authoritative voice sliced through the tension.
"Enough."
Lieutenant Merrick strode into view, the ring of his armor cutting clearly through the quiet. His expression was cold, unreadable, but the two mercenaries stepped back at once, clearly wary.
"We're just keeping order, Lieutenant," one protested weakly, avoiding the man's piercing gaze.
"I decide what's order," Merrick replied, his voice smooth as polished steel. "Intimidating children isn't part of your duty. Return to your posts."
The mercenaries exchanged sullen glances but obeyed without further protest. Lieutenant Merrick turned slowly, surveying the shaken villagers.
"You're safe now," he said quietly, his voice deliberately softened, carrying the careful note of compassion. But Tobias noticed something else beneath that calm exterior—a calculating glint, a subtle warning.
He didn't do this because he cared, Tobias realized, a chill running down his spine. Lieutenant Merrick wasn't their savior; he was preserving the illusion of order, masking the true nature of the power behind him.
The lieutenant paused, his eyes briefly meeting Tobias's. "Be careful out here," he said, his voice gentle but edged with something deeper, unspoken. Then he turned and walked back into the shadows, leaving the villagers quiet, unsettled, and more wary than ever.
"It's getting worse," Tobias muttered, glancing nervously toward the two mercenaries loitering outside the Hollow Hearth Inn. They were part of Gregor Vane's so-called "protection," hired swords whose presence felt more like a threat than reassurance.
Merrick clenched his fists. "They've no right treating us like this. We're not criminals."
Just then, a sharp cry echoed through the village square. Tobias and Merrick spun around, hearts hammering as they saw young Rowan Fenton sprawled on the muddy ground, eyes wide with fear as one of the mercenaries loomed over him.
"Watch where you're going, runt!" sneered the guard, nudging Rowan roughly with his boot.
"Leave him be!" shouted Merrick, his voice shaking with anger and adrenaline. The mercenary turned slowly, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.
"Or what, farm boy?" he mocked, stepping menacingly forward.
Tobias felt frozen, heart pounding wildly, until a calm but authoritative voice sliced through the tension.
"Enough."
Lieutenant Merrick strode into view, the ring of his armor cutting clearly through the quiet. His expression was cold, unreadable, but the two mercenaries stepped back at once, clearly wary.
"We're just keeping order, Lieutenant," one protested weakly, avoiding the man's piercing gaze.
"I decide what's order," Merrick replied, his voice smooth as polished steel. "Intimidating children isn't part of your duty. Return to your posts."
The mercenaries exchanged sullen glances but obeyed without further protest. Lieutenant Merrick turned slowly, surveying the shaken villagers.
"You're safe now," he said quietly, his voice deliberately softened, carrying the careful note of compassion. But Tobias noticed something else beneath that calm exterior—a calculating glint, a subtle warning.
He didn't do this because he cared, Tobias realized, a chill running down his spine. Lieutenant Merrick wasn't their savior; he was preserving the illusion of order, masking the true nature of the power behind him.
The lieutenant paused, his eyes briefly meeting Tobias's. "Be careful out here," he said, his voice gentle but edged with something deeper, unspoken. Then he turned and walked back into the shadows, leaving the villagers quiet, unsettled, and more wary than ever.
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