Ratchet smelled like salt, rust, and desperation.
It was not a large port — a few rickety docks, a handful of warehouses, and a main street lined with establishments that ranged from questionable to actively hostile. Goblins ran everything. That was the first thing I learned. If you wanted information in Ratchet, you paid for it, and you didn't ask where it came from.
I found the contact in a back room above a tannery.
His name was Mizzle. Goblin, middle-aged, with quick eyes and the kind of smile that made you count your fingers after a handshake. The room was small — a desk, a chair, stacks of ledgers that looked important but probably weren't.
"Willers," he said, as if tasting the name. "Ravenholdt sends their regards. Also their concerns."
He slid a folded paper across the desk.
I opened it. A name. A description. A location.
"Twilight courier," Mizzle said. "Runs messages between Silithus and a cove south of here. He's not important — not yet. But the people he answers to are. Follow him. Learn his route. Report back."
I studied the paper. "That's it?"
"That's the first step." Mizzle leaned back. "You're here to look at trade disputes, remember? That's what the books say. That's what the harbor master knows. You and I have never met."
I folded the paper and tucked it into my pocket.
The cove was two days south, hidden behind a ridge of black rock that looked like a wound in the coastline. I found a perch overlooking the beach and settled in to wait.
The courier appeared on the third day.
He came alone, riding a dusty kodo, wearing robes that were plain but deliberate — dark fabric, no insignia, the kind of clothes designed to be forgotten. He dismounted at the water's edge and waited.
An hour later, a small boat arrived from the south. A figure in similar robes handed him a sealed scroll. He took it, mounted, and rode north.
I watched the whole exchange from my perch.
Then I followed him back to Ratchet, memorized his schedule, and wrote my first report to Ravenholdt.
Trade disputes are not the issue. There's a cult operating in the southern deserts. They are organized and well-funded. I'm investigating.
I sealed the letter and sent it with the next ship east.