The Salt Mine Encounter
Just past the intersection of the Kingsroad with the east-west River Road and the High Road, about 60 kilometers from Harrenhal, lay the boundary of Lord Harroway's Town. To the north flowed the Trident River. Ian made this assessment as he surveyed the landscape.
At the edge of his field of vision stood a small salt mine. Near the woods outside the mine was a caravan loading goods. The foreman was directing workers to move bags of salt onto horse-drawn carts.
This caravan matched exactly what Ian remembered—four old horses, two carts, seven mules, four servants, and a lean young merchant.
Although Ian couldn't understand why this player would be foolish enough not to change his starting characteristics, the meaning of encountering such a caravan here was self-evident.
"Is fate truly this remarkable?" Looking at the scene from a distance, Ian's hand on his sword hilt tightened involuntarily.
The hunt Ian had envisioned involved camping ahead of time, studying the terrain and the opponent's strength, then attacking with deception and according to plan—not stumbling into an unprepared encounter like this.
But at this moment, he had no choice. He was traveling on the Kingsroad, making no effort to conceal himself, so when he spotted the caravan, they had surely spotted him as well.
If he continued north on the highway, he could pass the group without arousing suspicion, but it would seem strange to turn back now that he was mentally prepared.
If he wanted to approach the merchant player without raising suspicion, his only option was to pretend he had business at the salt mine and ride directly there.
Fortunately, his disguise was convincing enough that no one would suspect him. Ian glanced at his heraldic sword and regained some confidence.
Having made his decision, Ian immediately adopted the distinctive arrogance of nobility that he had often observed in British dramas during his previous life. He guided his horse leftward, leaving the Kingsroad and heading directly toward the nearby salt mine.
However, after just a few steps, he felt his heartbeat suddenly accelerate. 'Do not show fear!' he quickly warned himself.
Ian realized he had overestimated himself. Though he could talk about hunting plans, it was merely risk-free, theoretical pleasure. When it came to boasting, Ian, who had metaphorically killed opponents "seven ways to Sunday," considered himself a match for any internet keyboard warrior.
But now, facing an actual life-or-death adventure, he found his rationality struggling to suppress the tension in his heart. He couldn't even determine whether he feared the act of killing or the prospect of his own death.
In just a few dozen meters, Ian felt as though he had walked for a century.
"With only four servants who have no fighting capability, and no mercenaries at his side, he's defenseless. I only need to approach without arousing suspicion, then I can cut off his head with a single stroke and walk away," Ian kept telling himself. "There's no risk. I have nothing to fear."
Forcibly suppressing the fear in his heart, Ian urged his horse forward slowly while observing the situation at the mine ahead.
Soon, he noticed something peculiar.
The salt miners and the merchant's servants were loading salt onto the carts unhurriedly, with no one rushing them. This was clearly suspicious.
Ian had an idea and devised a plan to test the situation. He passed through the gate of the salt mine, bypassed the carts blocking the entrance, and approached the foreman and merchant.
"Who owns this salt mine?" Looking at the foreman facing him, Ian assumed an arrogant expression and asked in a condescending manner.
"It belongs to Lord Lucas Roote. He is also the Lord of Harroway's Town, sir." The foreman noticed the sword at Ian's waist, recognizing him as someone of importance. He bowed his head respectfully.
"What is the current trading arrangement at your mine? Do you have fixed long-term supply contracts?"
"No, Sir. All the salt from our mine is sold to passing caravans." The miner explained respectfully on the surface, but inwardly he was cursing, It's none of your business! This is the Riverlands. Do you Lannisters think you control everything?
"Excellent. I plan to purchase this salt mine. Show me around." This was Ian's strategy.
This approach would allow him not only to wander and inspect the salt mine while exploring the surrounding terrain, but also force the merchant player to initiate contact with him. After all, the merchant wanted to buy salt, and Ian was positioning himself as the potential new owner of the mine.
Besides, it would be strange for an arrogant Ser Lannister to greet a lowly merchant first, wouldn't it?
Throughout this exchange, Ian didn't glance at the merchant player even once. He knew this would minimize the other's suspicion.
"This..." the foreman suddenly looked uncomfortable, "the young lord is currently serving as Sir Andrey Charlton's squire. He is not in his lands. Everything in town is managed by the mayor, including the salt mine."
"And this mayor lacks the authority to decide whether to sell the mine?" Ian raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, Sir."
"Then I want all your goods right now," Ian said without pressing the issue further. "Return their payment and have someone move the salt back for me." Ian pointed at the merchant player and the caravan blocked at the salt works gate.
If I can't buy the mine, seizing his goods will still force him to approach me, Ian thought to himself.
"Sir..." the foreman broke into a cold sweat, "Do you require a large quantity of salt urgently? We have some remaining in the warehouse, look."
"Must I explain myself to you?" Ian rudely interrupted the foreman. "You claim you lack authority to sell the mine, yet you resist when I wish to purchase salt. Do you harbor some grievance against House Lannister?"
The foreman was immediately frightened and looked helplessly toward the merchant.
The lean merchant appeared momentarily confused and glanced at the stout attendant beside him.
Observing this exchange, Ian narrowed his eyes.
He had wondered why a merchant would dare come to the salt mine with such basic equipment to buy goods, and why the workers weren't hurrying. Now he understood—the man on horseback had changed his own and his servants' attire. He was laying a trap!
He knew the merchant's starting equipment had distinctive characteristics, so he deliberately exposed this vulnerability and waited for other players to hunt him.
This was indeed an excellent location for an ambush! Being so conspicuous, situated north of the intersection of the Kingsroad, River Road, and High Road, and south of the Trident's crossing, any players entering the Riverlands from the North, the Crownlands, or the Vale (or traveling from the Riverlands to these regions) would inevitably pass by and notice him.
But with such ineffective servants, why did he believe he could successfully ambush anyone?
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