While Amukelo and his group did their investigation, Jinrai and Tharion met with Captain Rhan. They learned that he was doing weekly wall checkup, so they headed to the place he started with. As they approached, he was already about to begin his task, now ordering something to his soldiers.
Jinrai motioned for Tharion to follow as he stepped forward.
"Captain Rhan?" Jinrai called out, raising a hand in greeting.
Rhan turned, narrowing his eyes as he took in the two men approaching. "Yes?"
"We're adventurers," Jinrai said, presenting his badge. "We're currently conducting an investigation regarding the most recent incidents related to the road construction. Would you be willing to answer a few questions?"
Rhan frowned, his eyes flicking briefly to the gate, then the guards beside him. "You see me standing around like I've got spare time?" he said, his tone sharp. "I'm doing my job. Got inspections to run. This town doesn't keep itself safe."
Jinrai asked, keeping his tone smooth. "What if we joined you during the inspection? We wouldn't get in your way, and we can talk as you work. We're not asking for much."
The captain eyed them both, clearly annoyed but also sizing them up with some measure of curiosity. After a moment, he sighed and adjusted the straps on his armor.
"Fine. But if I say shut it, you shut it. If something happens, you let my men do their work."
Jinrai smiled politely. "Understood. We're here to help, if needed."
Without another word, Rhan turned and started walking along the wall's edge. Jinrai and Tharion fell in line just behind the captain, giving him room but staying close enough to talk.
They moved in silence for a few minutes, passing archers stationed at their posts, a few nodding at the captain but keeping focused on their duties. From up here, Ashvale stretched out beneath them — a patchwork of stone homes, dirt roads, and market stalls.
"So," Jinrai began, "we wanted to ask… did you know anything specific about the merchant's last visit? His arrival, his route, what he was transporting?"
Rhan didn't look at him. "I knew he was coming. That's how he's still alive. My patrol found him while sweeping the path south of here. He was a mess. Bloody, bruised, half-limping, but he could still talk. We brought him in."
"And what about what he was carrying?"
"Goods," Rhan replied bluntly. "Same as always. Dried meat, grain, medicine. Prices are bad, but it's either him or nothing. I heard there were some letters or paperwork too, but I didn't see them. Didn't ask."
"You didn't think it odd that those documents went missing?"
Rhan glanced over his shoulder at Jinrai, his brow slightly raised. "It's not my job to think about letters. My job's to keep people from getting gutted by a wandering drake or some bandit who lost his mind in the woods. Letters don't need my help."
Jinrai nodded, keeping his tone even. "Fair enough."
They passed a stretch of wall where the stone had begun to weather heavily, and Rhan stopped to exchange a few quick words with one of the guards, pointing out a weak section in the mortar. The conversation was short, and then he returned to his route.
Jinrai waited until they were moving again. "Do you mind if I ask about something else? Thirty years ago, when this place was just a village—were you already here?"
Rhan paused briefly, then kept walking. "No. I came with the others. Escaping the war. I lost my wife in the chaos. Barely made it here with my son."
There was a short silence after that.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Jinrai said quietly.
Rhan grunted, neither confirming nor rejecting the sentiment. "But what does that have to do with anything? Why are you asking about the village back then?"
"It might help us piece together certain things," Jinrai answered calmly. "We're trying to understand what this town was, how it grew, who was involved. It might help us find what we're missing."
Rhan stopped and turned, facing Jinrai fully now. His expression was hard. "Oho," he said. "That's a nice answer. Political. Doesn't really say anything."
Rhan sighed and turned again, continuing his walk. "Whatever. If there's something useful you can pull from that old history, I'll tell you what I can. Long as it helps stop whatever the hell is going on lately."
They reached a tower overlooking the north gate and paused while a pair of archers reported in. Jinrai waited, letting the moment settle before he pressed further. "Can I ask you another thing, Captain?"
Rhan grunted, not slowing his pace. "If you must."
Jinrai kept his tone calm. "Was Eland always this well-known? Back when you were still refugees? Or did that reputation come later?"
Rhan's mouth twitched. "No, but he was known. Maybe not as some big leader at first, but he had authority over people. When the decision came down to escape the war, there were a few loud voices—Eland was one of them. A strong proponent of getting as far away from the front as possible. And in hindsight, I can't say he was wrong."
He paused, gripping the edge of the wall as they passed an uneven section of stone.
"We started near the front," Rhan continued, his voice lower. "Northern boundary, western side, close to the front line. It was chaos. We moved southwest—deliberately taking the long way through unpopulated routes. The military was conscripting anyone who could hold a blade. Didn't matter if you had a family, or if you were a farmer. If they saw you, you were theirs."
He turned slightly, looking at Jinrai from the corner of his eye. "Judging by your look… I suspect you know something about that."
Jinrai's gaze didn't waver. "A little too well."
Rhan didn't ask anything more. He just gave a quiet nod, and they kept walking.
"A lot of people died," Rhan continued. "I don't know exact numbers, but… if we started with a thousand, maybe five hundred made it. If that. Starvation, cold, beasts, rogue soldiers. The group changed every week. Families broke. Some people disappeared during the night, probably taken by monsters. Others just gave up."
"Early on," Rhan went on, "Eland kept to himself. Always helped where he could, but he wasn't trying to command anyone. The man who led us then was a warrior named Arens. Fierce, loyal, but too proud. When we ran into a dragon near the cliffs past the Mourn Hills… it was the end of him. And the end of a lot of our hope."
His voice grew quieter, rougher. "We lost most of the warriors then. And not just them—children, their mothers… Burnt or crushed in the panic. I lost my wife. She was carrying a young boy, and—"
He stopped for a beat, drew in a breath, and shook his head. "Doesn't matter now."
Jinrai kept his silence, giving the man space.
Rhan's voice steadied as he continued. "After that, it was Eland who took up the front. Not because he asked for it, but because there was no one else strong enough for that role. He gave people something to follow, especially when there was nothing else left."
He slowed down as they reached a curve in the wall, the forest thick and quiet below.
"So by the time we reached this hill, and saw the village, no one questioned when we decided to stay permanently. We had no energy left to keep running, and Eland said this place was high enough to be defensible, remote enough to avoid armies and conscription. At first, the villagers weren't so eager to let us stay, but when they saw how we dealt with monsters, they eventually agreed to let us stay."
He leaned on the edge of the stone for a moment, his armor creaking as he looked out over the rooftops of Ashvale.
"You know, people talk about Eland like he built this town with his bare hands. That's not quite true. The people built it. But without him, I doubt half of us would've lived long enough to lay the first brick."
Jinrai nodded slowly, digesting it all. The story lined up with what they'd heard so far. He waited a few more paces before he asked, "Do you know what his fighting style was like?"
Rhan gave a faint shrug. "He was a swordsman. The best I've seen, and I've seen a few good ones."
He frowned slightly. "But ever since he lost his wife… he's been sick. Wasting away, even. I haven't seen him swing a sword in years. People say his daughter's not doing too well either. Sick all the time. Shame, really. You'd think people who brought peace to a place like this would get to enjoy it."
His hand curled around the hilt of his sword absently, fingers tightening once.
"We came looking for peace. But for some of us… it never really came."
As his words hung in the air, they arrived at the base of a watchtower.
Rhan gestured up toward the stone steps spiraling inside. "Let's keep moving. You can keep asking questions, but we're not done yet."