Mistral was a large and accursed place. It's northern coastline was as frigid as Atlas, it's eastern coast an endless desert and the west plagued by swamps and dragon-infested territory. It's capital, aptly named Haven, was months of journeying away from it's coastline and not for the first time, Slater Bleu couldn't help but wonder how the hell the Mistrali could live in such an overly large place. The second something went wrong you would be on your own with nothing but miles of wilderness around you.
Normally Slater wouldn't concern himself with thoughts of Mistral, but his current mission dictated that he actually should. A few weeks ago, the former merchant had been summoned by his boss, the Spymaster to Queen Schnee herself, and promptly sent on his way to investigate whether the Queen's soon to be husband was being financed by any of Mistral's banks. It was especially nice of the bastard to not tell him which bank, if there were any, he should focus on, making his job all the more difficult since Mistral was home to the largest number of recorded banks in all of Remnant.
After the Great War, the Mistrali had been clever little bastards with how they dealt with the sudden influx of looted goods. Instead of hoarding their wealth and promptly losing it to a horde of dragons like most monarchs, they'd spread their wealth across the entirety of their country, setting up markets, banks, stock exchanges, treasuries and other money generating businesses. This spread out the dragons, making them less of a problem since they were easier to hunt on their own, and although there were many sad losses of settlements during the earlier days of their little project, the Mistrali had learned from their failures and before anyone knew it they were staving off the dragons with minimal losses to life and money.
And whilst Slater could very easily applaud the ingenious and overall execution of their newly revamped economy, he could also very easily shit on it all day. Because now he was left wandering the continent in the hopes he either stumbles on a lead or someone else does, and since Zeki never told him how many others were working on this mission or whether they would be co-ordinating or not he might as well have been told to look for an one smaller than average ant in a hive of average sized ants
"Fuck Zeki. Seriously. Let that bald bastard wander a kingdom the size of a continent looking for a needle in a haystack. See how he likes it then." Slater harrumphed, and his companion, who sat next to him on the wagon he was driving, bobbed his head in agreement.
"I have good reason to hate that annoyingly uncaring bastard." Slater muttered to his companion. "Zeki is the very reason I've lost my business and been forced into the Crown's service. You see, some years ago, a certain Jaqcues Schnee was worried about the overall state of his kingdom in the aftermath of a certain rebellion. He wanted stronger internal surveillance but didn't want to spend any of his own money to set up some sort of spy organisation until a minor but crafty lord whispered a very cost effective plan into his kingly ear. Instead of funding a new guild, the good king would instead fund small merchants and caravans, which would generate wealth for the kingdom through trade. But at the same time, they would build up networks, ingratiate themselves to innkeepers, port officials, bankers and other merchants all of whom would have a little bit of knowledge that would be useful to the Crown. It seemed very smart of me to take that loan at the time, but the second I paid it back it turned out I'd accumulated enough interest to make me lose everything, My savings, my goods, my caravan. But then the king offered me a certain alternative and lo and behold, here I am!".
His companion looked thoroughly impressed as he spread his arms and looked expectantly at him.
"Oh yeah? What's your story then?"
His companion said nothing.
"Thought so now be...stay quiet and let me focus on the road!"
His companion remained silent.
"You're boring." Slater sighed. "And now you've got me in a bad mood, thinking about that bastard lord again."
The little bastard said nothing. Didn't even apologise.
"Whatever. I don't need you anyway." Slater declared stubbornly, grabbing his companion by its tatty head and tossing it into the back of his wagon, laden with travelling supplies and a little gold that would help loosen tongues.
"Dumb bear." Slater muttered, shaking his head and focusing on the road. He'd spent most of his life alone on the road, and probably would've gone insane if it weren't for that annoying little bear. At least the runt was a good listener.
"Speaking of." Slater mumbled, straightening his slouch and whipping the reins of his horses, Winnie and Pooh, who panted as they dragged along the wagon.
Ahead, a single wooden tower rose above the canopy. They rounded a small rightwards bend and a wooden gate blocked his path. The gate looked new, lacking scratches and the general weariness of most fortifications. They were new after all, built seven or so years ago under the orders of Queen Pyrrha herself.
The gate was part of a wall, as was the looming wooden tower that sat at the centre of the fort he'd stumbled across. There were four other forts built at similar points along all the roads leading into Haven. Mistral's Queen was fearful of the increasingly desperate and so ever bolder tribes that wandered the vast wilderness, and had built them to prevent a repeat of the Year of Smoke and defend Haven.
"Bloody nuisance is what they are." Slater grumbled, though he noted the lack of a queue that normally formed as a result of the slow admittance through the fort.
"State your business traveller!" Called a guard from atop the wooden wall.
"I'm a merchant." Slater replied wearily, sounding like every other person who travelled through Mistral's lands. "I'm headed to Haven to check in on my business interests there."
"Stay there! A soldier of Her Greatness shall inspect your wagon before you may be admitted through the gates of Kokkini Renga. If you attempt to flee or move you will be shot and killed. Do you understand?" The guard shouted in reply.
"Aye I won't move." Slater shouted back tiredly, rolling his eyes as the guard barked a command in Mistrali and the wooden gates were heaved open. Two armoured guards stepped out from the fort, wearing the standard bronze armour Mistrali guardsmen wore during peacetime. This deep into Mistral meant the lands, while populated by wolves and other hunters, were fairly tame and safe. The further you were from Haven, the less safe you were. If Slater had to guess, he was roughly two more days from Haven, gods willing.
"Name." One of the guards demanded and Slater forced his eyes to look at the very sharp spear in the other one's hand to stop him from rolling his eyes. Bloody Mistrali.
"Slater Bleu." He replied.
The guard scribbled something in the leather bound book he carried.
"Your business?"
"Checking in on my business interests in Haven."
"What interests?"
"I own shares in an artisans shop. I haven't heard from him in a while and I'm worried something ill might have befall him."
The guardsmen exchanged glances, falling for his little trap. The Mistrali were militaristic and excessive at times regarding their loyalty to the rules, but his greeting had been hostile and the lack of caravans suspicious.
"You may enter Kokkini Renga. You will be safe here whilst we confirm what you told us using existing documents." The guardsmen said, the hostility in his tone dying immediately.
"Is something wrong?" Slater asks, curiosity butchering his metaphorical cat.
"What makes you think that?" The other guard replied, quickly. Too quickly. The other one realised, shooting his comrade a warning glare.
"The lack of a queue." Slater replied in a jesting tone and the guardsmen laughed. A surprise to be sure, considering the every Mistrali's love for uptightness.
"If you do end up headed for Haven you'll find out anyway." The guardsmen said, and the other one merely sighed but offered no other way of trying to stop his comrades' loose tongue.
"Find out what?" Slater asked, leaning in curiously.
"A dragon attacked Haven a few weeks ago. Turned everything into naught but cinders and ash."