Chapter 22: Tensions Rising

A heavy mist settled over the city of Velmire, clinging to the cobbled streets like a lingering omen. The usual sounds of the night—muffled voices in alleyways, the occasional drunken brawl, the distant howl of stray dogs—felt subdued, as if the city itself held its breath. Something was shifting beneath the surface, unseen yet undeniable.

Aedric moved carefully through the slums, his hood drawn low to obscure his face. Every step he took was measured, every glance over his shoulder intentional. He could feel it in the air—uncertainty. The delicate balance of power in Velmire's underworld was beginning to tilt, and with it came a rising unease.

Gorran's men were more alert than usual. Groups of enforcers roamed the streets in twos and threes, their hands never far from the hilts of their blades. The rumors had done their job well—paranoia was settling into their ranks. But it wasn't enough.

Not yet.

Aedric stopped at a quiet corner, leaning against the cold stone wall of an abandoned building. A few steps away, a beggar huddled beneath a tattered cloak, barely acknowledging Aedric's presence. But the slumped posture was a ruse—one that Aedric recognized immediately.

Without looking, he spoke in a low voice. "What did you hear?"

The beggar didn't move at first. Then, in a voice rough from years of street life, he muttered, "Dorn's restless. He's meeting his men tonight."

Aedric's grip tightened around the hidden dagger in his belt. That was sooner than expected.

"Where?"

"Old warehouse. Riverside."

Aedric nodded, slipping a small coin into the beggar's palm before melting back into the shadows. He needed to get this information to the others.

---

Lirian was already waiting at the safe house when Aedric arrived. She had shed her usual smirk, her arms crossed as she leaned against the wooden table at the center of the dimly lit room. Tessa sat nearby, absently spinning a dagger between her fingers.

Varen, ever the cautious one, was pacing near the window, peering through the cracks in the shutters.

"You're late," Lirian said, her voice calm but expectant.

Aedric ignored the jab, moving toward the table. "Dorn's meeting his men tonight. Riverside."

That caught their attention.

Tessa stopped spinning her dagger. "Tonight?"

Aedric nodded. "He's more paranoid than we thought. If he's gathering his men this quickly, he might already be considering a move against Gorran."

Varen exhaled sharply. "Then we don't have time to wait."

Lirian's eyes glinted with something close to excitement. "So what's the plan?"

Aedric ran a hand through his hair, thinking. "We need to be there. If Dorn decides to act, we need to see it happen firsthand."

Tessa raised an eyebrow. "And if he hesitates?"

Aedric met her gaze. "Then we give him a reason to stop hesitating."

The room fell silent for a moment as the weight of those words settled over them. They all understood what was at stake.

Finally, Varen nodded. "Then let's move."

---

The warehouse sat on the edge of the river, its wooden structure worn by years of neglect. The faint scent of damp rot clung to the air, mixing with the briny odor of the water. A few lanterns flickered inside, casting elongated shadows against the warped walls.

Aedric, Lirian, Tessa, and Varen moved carefully along the outskirts, keeping to the darkness as they observed.

Through a gap in the wooden planks, they could see them—Dorn and his men.

The group was smaller than expected, but the tension in the room was palpable. Dorn stood at the center, arms crossed, his face tight with barely concealed frustration. Around him, his lieutenants murmured in hushed voices, exchanging uneasy glances.

Aedric strained to listen.

"—don't like it," one of the men muttered. "This isn't the time to move against Gorran."

Dorn's voice was sharp. "And when will it be the time? When he decides to kill us off one by one?"

A few uneasy murmurs followed.

Another voice, this one steadier, spoke up. "Even if we turn against Gorran, we don't have the numbers."

Dorn's hands curled into fists. "Then we find the numbers."

Lirian leaned in slightly, her breath warm against Aedric's ear. "He's close, but not close enough."

Aedric knew she was right. Dorn was angry, frustrated, but still hesitant. He needed a push.

Tessa, crouched nearby, whispered, "If we want him to move, we need to make him think he has no choice."

Aedric considered their next move carefully. They couldn't afford to reveal themselves, but they could influence Dorn's decision.

He looked to Lirian. "We start a fight. Make it look like one of Gorran's men turned on Dorn."

A grin spread across her lips. "Subtle chaos. I like it."

Varen, ever the cautious one, sighed. "Just don't get yourselves killed."

Lirian and Tessa disappeared into the shadows, their movements fluid and practiced. Aedric remained in place, watching, waiting.

Moments later, a sharp cry cut through the night.

The sound of metal scraping against metal followed, along with the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the floor. Inside the warehouse, Dorn and his men reacted instantly, drawing weapons and scanning the darkness.

"What was that?" someone hissed.

One of Dorn's men, a burly enforcer, stumbled forward, clutching his side where blood seeped through his tunic. His face was twisted in pain and fury.

"Bastard tried to kill me," he snarled, glaring at another man across the room.

The accused man looked stunned. "What? That wasn't me!"

But the damage was done. Suspicion ignited like dry tinder, spreading through the group like wildfire. Voices rose, accusations were thrown, and Dorn's frustration boiled over.

"Enough!" Dorn bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. "This is exactly what Gorran wants—to turn us against each other!"

Aedric smiled to himself. Perfect.

Dorn took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over his men. His jaw clenched. "We make our move. Now."

The room fell into tense silence. Then, one by one, his men nodded.

Aedric exhaled slowly. The first domino had fallen. Now, there was no turning back.