The night air was thick with the scent of damp stone and distant smoke as Aedric and his group slipped away from the counting house. The streets of Silk Row were quiet now, the lanterns flickering in the gentle breeze. But by dawn, chaos would spread through the district like wildfire.
Aedric moved with purpose, his boots silent on the cobblestone streets. Varen walked beside him, carrying a sack filled with stolen coin, while Lirian trailed slightly behind, twirling a bloodstained dagger between her fingers. They had left behind just enough to send a message—one that Vask couldn't ignore.
Their return to the safe house was swift and uneventful, the winding alleys providing ample cover. The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The others were waiting, eyes filled with anticipation.
Roran grunted from his place by the hearth. "Judging by the lack of injuries, I take it things went well?"
Lirian smirked, dropping onto a chair with a satisfied sigh. "Flawless, as usual."
Varen set the heavy sack of coin on the table with a dull thud. "We took what we could carry, left the rest for them to find. The mark is there. They'll know it was us."
Tessa leaned forward, her sharp eyes scanning their expressions. "And the bodies?"
"Neatly arranged," Aedric replied, stripping off his gloves. "The message will be clear. Vask won't take this lightly."
Silence settled over the room. Everyone understood what this meant. The first strike had been a warning. This was a declaration of war.
Tessa drummed her fingers on the wooden surface. "Then we need to prepare for retaliation. Gorran won't let something like this go unanswered, and Vask? He's the type to make it personal."
Aedric nodded. "That's exactly what we want. If Vask reacts with force, it gives us an opening to draw him out. He's a blunt instrument, not a strategist. If he comes after us head-on, we can control the battlefield."
Roran leaned back against the stone wall, his thick arms crossed. "And if he doesn't take the bait?"
Aedric exhaled. "Then we keep pushing until he does."
Tessa frowned. "Pushing how? Another attack?"
"Not immediately," Aedric said. "We let this sit for a day. Give the fear time to settle in. Then, we strike again—somewhere closer to Vask's personal operations."
Varen nodded. "We need to make him feel cornered. The angrier he gets, the sloppier he becomes."
Aedric's gaze swept across the room. "This isn't just about one fight. It's about control. Gorran's men have ruled the slums and Silk Row unchallenged for too long. People are afraid to move against them. But if we keep hitting them like this, it changes things."
Roran grunted. "And what happens when Gorran himself gets involved? Right now, it's Vask we're provoking, but you know that won't last. If we make enough noise, the old bastard will eventually step in."
Aedric met his gaze. "Then we'll be ready for him, too."
The room fell into a tense silence. The weight of what they had begun was settling over them all. This wasn't just about survival anymore. It was about seizing power.
Lirian stretched, letting out a long sigh. "Well, this is all very serious. But until Vask actually does something, I'm getting some sleep." She pushed herself up from her chair, heading toward the back of the safe house. "Wake me if we get a knife at the door."
Aedric allowed himself a small smirk before turning back to the others. "Get some rest. We'll regroup in the morning."
One by one, the others dispersed. Roran remained by the hearth, sharpening his blade in steady, measured strokes. Varen disappeared into the adjoining room, likely double-checking their stock of supplies. Tessa lingered a moment longer, her expression unreadable.
"You're sure about this?" she asked quietly.
Aedric nodded. "We're committed now."
She studied him for a long moment before sighing. "Then let's hope we're as ready as we think we are."
---
Morning came with an unsettling stillness. The usual hum of activity in the slums was quieter than normal, a tense undercurrent rippling through the streets. News had already begun to spread—Gorran's counting house had been hit, his men slaughtered. And worse, the attack had been brazen.
Aedric stood by the window of the safe house, watching as people moved through the alleys with cautious glances. The fear was palpable, but so was the curiosity. People were waiting to see what would happen next.
A sharp knock at the door drew his attention. Varen answered, opening it just enough to see the visitor. It was a young boy, no older than twelve, his clothes tattered but his eyes sharp.
"They're looking for you," the boy whispered. "Vask's men. They're asking questions all over Silk Row."
Aedric nodded. "How many?"
"A lot. More than usual." The boy hesitated, then added, "He's mad. I heard one of his men say he's coming out himself."
That was exactly what Aedric had wanted.
Varen reached into the sack of coin, pulling out a small handful and handing it to the boy. "Tell no one you spoke to us."
The boy pocketed the money and vanished back into the alleys.
Lirian, who had been listening from across the room, grinned. "Sounds like we got his attention."
Aedric turned back to the window. "Then we make sure he finds us on our terms."
---
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky by the time Vask made his move.
Aedric and his group had chosen their ground carefully—a narrow street lined with abandoned buildings, giving them multiple escape routes while limiting how many of Vask's men could attack at once. They positioned themselves in the shadows, weapons ready.
Then, they waited.
The first sign of Vask's arrival was the heavy thud of boots against cobblestone.
Aedric counted at least ten men as they entered the alley, their weapons drawn, their eyes scanning the surroundings with barely contained rage. And at the center of them all was Vask himself.
He was a brute of a man, built like an ox with a face full of old scars. His leather armor was worn, but the massive war axe slung across his back was anything but. His expression was twisted in fury, his thick fingers clenching into fists.
"Where are you, Phantom?" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Think you can steal from me and walk away?"
Aedric stepped forward from the shadows, his dagger glinting in the fading light. "I was hoping you'd come yourself."
Vask's eyes locked onto him, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across his face. "You've got nerve, boy. But you've made a mistake."
Aedric smirked. "The only mistake was letting you run this city for so long."
Vask's grin vanished. He took a step forward, his men shifting into a formation behind him. The air between them grew heavy, the tension palpable.
The first move would decide everything.
Aedric's grip on his dagger tightened.
The battle for Velmire had truly begun.