The city of Val'Haren never truly slept.
Even in the deepest hours of the night, torches burned bright, whispers filled darkened alleys, and unseen figures moved through the streets with silent purpose.
For Argolaith and Kaelred, the victory against the noble's private army secured their alliance with the Silver Fang Mercenaries, but it also painted a bigger target on their backs.
The Black Thorn Syndicate would not take this insult lightly.
As Argolaith sat at the corner table of the Silver Fang Guild Hall, Kaelred across from him, they both knew—a storm was coming.
"How long do you think before the Syndicate retaliates?" Kaelred asked, tapping his fingers against the wooden table.
Argolaith smirked. "Hopefully soon. I'm getting bored."
Kaelred groaned. "You have a death wish."
