Tonight, out of the blue, a heavy rain had begun to fall.
In the territory of Moss Ridge, where the roads were already narrow, the rain turned the mountain paths into a quagmire. A large, old tree growing on the mountainside was blown down by the furious wind, blocking the way.
A merchant caravan had no choice but to stop before the blocked road, unable to go forward or retreat.
The guards in charge of escorting the caravan were experienced and well-organized.
Two were clearing the roadblock in front.
The others lit talismans to pierce through the night rain, setting up formations around the caravan to guard against falling rocks and other accidents.
All these guards wore long swords.
Hanging from the hilt of each sword was a bright red tassel.
