[Prior to David's journey to Valemir County.]
Three hundred miles south of Thistlebrook, in a very different kind of rain, a hooded figure moved like liquid darkness through the slave market of Karven Port. Unlike Valemir's relatively regulated commerce, Karven operated beyond imperial oversight, a haven for transactions the empire officially condemned while tacitly permitting beneath layers of political silence.
The auction block stood at the market's centre, a crude wooden platform where human merchandise was displayed for potential buyers. Today's offerings were particularly grim, prisoners of war from the latest border skirmish with the Southern Confederacy, their bodies bearing the marks of recent conflict, cruel treatment, and harsh captivity.
