Passive Pillager [CERTIFIED]

On the fourth morning, Kaelen slipped closer. He found their camp in a collapsed windmill. The axe-bearer, a young man with hollow eyes, saw him first. He raised his axe, knuckles white.

The young man’s eyes widened. “And die unarmed?”

The crossbowman—his name was Piers—helped rebuild the south fence. The axe-bearer, Finn, turned out to have a gift for carving wooden toys. Within a month, the village council voted to grant them residency. Within a year, Piers married the baker’s widow. Finn became the town’s first toymaker. And Marrow opened a small infirmary. passive pillager

The crossbowman tried to stand, winced, and fell back. “Then we die. We have nowhere else.”

Kaelen sat in silence for a long moment. Then he did something no scout in Verveil had ever done. On the fourth morning, Kaelen slipped closer

Kaelen knelt. He took out his own water flask and a small pouch of dried meat—his own rations—and set them down. “What’s your story?”

“Don’t,” Marrow said, not even looking up from grinding herbs. “He’s not here to fight. Look at his hands.” He raised his axe, knuckles white

Marrow’s weathered face cracked into a small, tired smile. “I can heal her. I was a bonesetter’s apprentice before the warlord’s men took me.”