Tavriel
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Mornings at Rustport were always bustling with activity. The air was filled with the scent of tar and rust, carried by the salty, damp sea breeze. Dockworkers shouted with hoarse voices, while fog crept from the pier into the streets like a sluggish giant serpent, lazily coiling around the rooftops of warehouses and taverns. All manner of mysterious goods flowed into Rustport's markets with the tide. But the harbor was eerily quiet today. A merchant ship gleaming with dazzling golden light was slowly approaching the dock. At its bow was a dragon's head held high, its scales crafted from pure gold, with eyes inlaid with rubies that emitted a brilliant radiance, bathing the entire dock in golden light. Ribbons and crystal bells hung from both sides of the hull, tinkling in the breeze, while the sail was embroidered with a line of brilliant text—"Golden Trading." Everyone on the dock stood dumbfounded. "What is this thing... 'Golden Trading'? I've never heard of it before." "These decorations are a bit too gaudy." People whispered among themselves, their eyes flickering between desire and doubt. As everyone was murmuring to each other, a lazy voice drifted down from the deck. "The air here is absolutely dreadful!" People turned toward the voice as a figure with an unsettling gleam in his eyes slowly emerged from the cabin. He wore a long robe of black and gold, casually swinging a money pouch adorned with glittering gold patterns that jingled with each step. But most striking were the unmistakable dragon horns protruding from his head. "Hello everyone!" he beamed with a brilliant smile. "I am Tavriel, from Dragon Isle." He raised his hand and took an exaggerated bow, like an actor on stage. "It's rather embarrassing with so many eyes on me. But if any of you require anything at all, feel free to seek out Golden Trading—as long as you can afford it, we can make anything happen!" Before anyone could react, a menacing group appeared at the dock. Leading them was a man with shoulders as broad as a wall and a scar cutting across his face. Seeing them, the crowd immediately dispersed. "Hey! You with all the gold!" the scarred man bellowed with his head held high. "Who do you think you are? If you want to do business here, you need to clear it with the Whispers first!" Tavriel showed no fear whatsoever. "Perfect timing!" With a flick of his finger, a gold coin traced a perfect arc through the air, landing precisely in the other man's pocket. "This isn't a tip. Take it to your boss—she'll understand when she sees it." The scarred man gave him a suspicious look, his mouth twitching slightly. "You'd better not be playing games with us." "I never play games with gangs," Tavriel laughed as he leaned back. "It would be most undignified for an honest businessman like myself." When that dragon-headed coin was delivered to Sonja, the leader of the Whispers was in the middle of handling several not-quite-legal contracts. She examined the dragon emblem carved on the gold piece, muttering to herself, "He actually came to sea in person..." Then, she looked up and said to her subordinate, "Let him be. Just have someone keep an eye on him." "Boss, is this person... your friend?" "Friend?" Sonja's lips curled into a smile. "Not a friend. Just a business partner." Since the end of the Age of Arcana, the Draconis have lived in seclusion on Dragon Isle for thousands of years. They have adhered to the principle of "no contact with mortals" from top to bottom, and the stories of dragons have gradually become myths in mortal legends. However, Dragon Isle is not truly isolated from the outside world. Deep within that island shrouded in storms and legends, there exists a black market that operates outside the canonical laws. It's a gray area beyond the reach of Draconis law—a group of resourceful Draconis who use storms and sea mists to conceal their ships, quietly traveling between the mortal world and the isle. They disguise themselves in various places, participating in the flow of Esperia's trade. The Draconic Council has never acknowledged this, yet they have never completely stopped it either. It is said that the black market on Dragon Isle secretly funds certain Highborn clans, allowing their influence to penetrate every corner of the isle. In this gray trade network, Tavriel stands out as a master of his craft. He runs a business that defies precise description—a place where you can purchase tangible goods or acquire intangible information. On the signboard, an old line of Dragonspeak read: "For the right price, anything can be arranged." Tavriel never explained the meaning of that phrase to any customer, for only those who truly understood it were worthy of doing business with him. What he ran was a genuine "Jack-of-all-Trades." Some came seeking wealth, magic, or a rewrite of their destiny; others arrived bearing secrets. As long as profit could be made, he would deal in anything. Rumors claim he can turn a doomed negotiation around overnight, or make a vanished fleet "reappear" in the morning mist... For the right sum, he could even purchase a memory for you—or erase one entirely. He knew the route of every merchant ship, the loopholes in every contract, and who was feigning loyalty. Within Esperia's intricate trade network, he was like a fog that never lifted. Everyone recognized him as a troublemaker, yet they also understood one thing—if you wanted to make a deal in the shadows, there was no bypassing him. Some Draconis nobles despise him to their core, yet they had no choice but to enlist his help to clean up their messes. Black market merchants cursed him behind closed doors, but still came knocking at his trading post before every stormy night, bringing gold and treasure. In the mortal realm, his partners can be found everywhere, and Sonja of the Whispers is one such associate. As evening fell, the winds at Rustport gradually calmed. Sonja waited in the harbor warehouse district. Tavriel arrived as promised, wearing his characteristic carefree smile and carrying a cloth bag. "It's quite rare to see you come in person," Sonja said with her arms crossed. "What's this? Is this deal significant enough to warrant your voyage across the sea?" "Of course," Tavriel smiled casually, "and I've brought a 'sample'." He clapped his hands, and a timid Mauler child peeked out from beside him, her eyes filled with fear and terror. Sonja's expression immediately darkened: "Tavriel, the Whispers aren't interested in this kind of deal." Tavriel froze for a moment, then immediately put on a pitiful expression. "You've got me all wrong! I had no intention of dealing in that kind of business! This child—she's a shipwreck survivor I saved during the storm. Her village was raided, and she doesn't even remember her own name." Sonja stared at him, unsure if he was making up another story. "So that's why you brought her… hoping I'd find a buyer and make you a tidy sum?" "No, I'm planning to give her a new identity. I was wondering if the Whispers would take on a young helper? It's really inconvenient for me to keep her with me," Tavriel said with a smile. Sonja remained silent for a moment, her gaze shifting from Tavriel to the child. The little girl timidly hid behind Tavriel, only half her face visible. "You, of all people... getting involved in something like this?" Tavriel chuckled, "Don't get me wrong, I don't do anything without profit. This child's situation just happens to tie into another business of mine. I stirred up some trouble on your turf today, and pretty soon, someone's going to come looking for me." Sonja stared at him for a long time, then sighed. "Fine, I'll arrange for someone to take care of her. But don't let me find out you've lied to me." Tavriel bowed with a flourish, his smile as radiant as sunshine: "I never lie—at least, not to friends. Next time I come across a good deal, you'll be the first to know!" As night deepened, the wind chimes rang again. Tavriel turned and left, his golden robe swaying in the sea breeze like a dancing flame. Sonja watched his retreating figure and shook her head. "Who says we're friends..." She turned around, intending to have someone take the child away, but then paused. "Little girl, was what he just said true?" The little girl blushed and lowered her head, apparently not very good at lying. "Trust that black-hearted merchant to make even his rare good deeds as convoluted as possible..."
Title
Golden Broker
Max ascension
Ascended 5★
How Tavriel compares · vs 26 Draconis Heroes
Closest Heroes · nearest on ATK
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