Chapter 2: Declan Greyfeather
As the sun rises higher in the sky, the town of Marygold Crossing bristles with life. Surrounded by hills and farmlands, several travel routes lead toward the town. However, the large river that provides a safe passage for ships and ferries is its greatest strength and the industrial force that brings in the coin.
While the docks and industrial district have a clear purpose, the town truly comes alive in its commercial districts. On top of that, everyone is preparing for the Flower Festival. Thanks to the fertility of the land, agriculture provides both resources and trade for Marygold Crossing, making it famous for the colorful and diverse array of flowers that can be found here.
Declan Greyfeather’s eyes linger on a few of those flowers as he walks past the bustling stalls. They are vibrant, delicate, and fragrant, yet some hide sharp thorns beneath their beauty. People, he reflects, are much the same—diverse, colorful, but just as capable of being dangerous.
Several caravans approach from the western road, joined by travelers on foot. Most have come for commerce, others for a safe commute by ship, and a few simply to enjoy the Flower Festival. But Declan is here for one reason: to kick the ass of a particular Stormweaver who deserted the order and is hiding within the town.
Walking alongside a carriage as it passes the town’s entrance sign, Declan makes his way toward the Cloud Watcher barracks, located close to the gate.
The well-fortified building has a rounded roof, a watchtower, and a water tower beside it. Several large copper tubes run in and out of the structure, feeding into water silos at the far end. As he approaches, Declan—slightly shorter than average—reaches beneath his dark green rainbreaker trench coat and pulls out a mechanical pocket watch.
This is a standard edition Stormweaver pocket watch. Its main purpose is not to tell time but to track vital values through integrated wires linked to the coat and the suit beneath it.
Pushing down on the button at the crown of the watch releases the spring latch, opening the cover. Inside lies an intricate assortment of measuring dials, a small pressure vial filled with mercury, and several number indicators. Declan taps the watch lightly with a gloved finger, reassured as the readings stay steady.
Reserves Indicator
Rainwater: 250 ml – Fresh | 300 ml – Stable
Body Heat Indicator
Current Temp: 36°C
Zone: Green – Safe
Pressure Indicator
Steam Vent: Moderate – Safe
Risk: Low
Potency Timer
Rainwater potency expires in 12 hours.
On the inside of the cover, an engraving shows geometric folk motifs, illustrating a sword and a heart. Declan’s dark green eyes lift from the device as he approaches the entrance of the barracks. His deep bronze complexion is matched by a relieved smile and the rather handsome features of a generally serious young man in his early twenties.
Declan stepped through the heavy oak doors of the Cloud Watcher barracks. The main entrance opened to a large central hall with a high ceiling. Exposed timber beams support a small mezzanine used for administrative offices.
Close to the entrance a few benches framed a walkway meant as a waiting area, at the end of it was a sturdy oak counter adorned with minor brass and copper detailing, where townsfolk can report crimes, lost goods, or request assistance. Papers, ink bottles, and stamped notices are neatly organized.
The receptionist was an older man in his sixties, his hair a muted red tinged with streaks of gray, neatly combed back from a lined but kindly face. His eyes, a bright blue, twinkled with warmth and mischief beneath bushy brows, and his smile was quick and reassuring. He moved with slow, deliberate care, always ready to gesture politely or offer a wordless welcome to anyone approaching the desk. Despite his age, there was a gentle energy about him—a steady presence that made the barracks feel less intimidating to visitors.
Seeing Declan approach, the old receptionist acknowledged, “Welcome to the Cloud Watch, young lad. How may our capable officers be of service?”
Waiting for a response, the old man noticed the serious look on the young man’s face. Declan reached within his coat and pulled out several papers, placing them carefully on the counter. The receptionist raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking at the young man for a moment before shifting his gaze down to the papers.
To the Officers of the Cloud Watch, Marygold Crossing:
This letter certifies that Declan Greyfeather is an operative of the Stormweaver Order, authorized to conduct investigations, manage magical supplies, and perform duties related to the Order within the jurisdiction of Marygold Crossing.
All local officers are instructed to cooperate fully, providing access to storage facilities, patrol areas, and any resources necessary for the completion of Order-related operations.
This communication is endorsed by Captain Brandor Veylan of the Cloud Watch, who has been notified of Declan’s arrival and activities.
The first letter bears a red wax seal of the Stormweaver Order, embossed with a cloud motif over a bronze needle.
A second letter, written in simple yet elegant handwriting, reads:
To Whom It May Concern:
I am Declan Greyfeather, a member of the Stormweaver Order. I am mute and cannot speak. My hearing and understanding are fine; I will communicate using written notes, gestures, or my prepared documents.
P.S.
No, you may not keep this document. Please return it to me.
The last set of documents were simple identification papers.
After a long, awkward pause, the old officer finally raised his head to Declan with a half-smile. “Well, aren’t you an odd one. Nice to meet ya, my name is Norris.”
Declan carefully gathered the papers, sliding them back into his coat, and produced a pen from his pocket. He then took out a smaller note and scribbled a single question:
“Has there been anything strange or of note happen recently?”
He held the note toward Norris, watching the old officer’s reaction.
Norris leaned forward, a confused grin spreading across his face. “Just an errant lightning strike around the docks,” he said.
