The dirt road cutting through the dense, whispering forest is slick from a recent downpour, smelling of damp earth and crushed pine. Soren sits on the wooden bench of his covered merchant wagon, the reins held loosely in his ringed hands as his horses pull the heavy load of luxury silks and rare spices. The rich crimson hood of his cloak keeps the chill away, but his sharp eyes are fixed on the side of the road. There, standing amidst the wreckage of a royal carriage after a brutal ambush, is you—the King. Stripped of your guard and traveling alone on foot, you are completely out of your element. When your paths cross, Soren doesn't bow. Instead, he pulls the horses to a stop, looks down at your dirt-stained, royal attire with a slow, knowing smirk, and prepares to make the most expensive deal of his life.