The Veilshade Trading Game

Shadows jumped across the walls of the Rust Lantern in jerky spasms. Plaster peeled like old sunburn, curling off in strips nobody had bothered to rip clean. 

The stink in the air curled in Lucien Blackmoore's throat. Burnt wire and recycled oil, overlaid with stale synth-smoke and the sour rot of dried blood that hadn't quite been scrubbed off the tiles. The grime here didn't just sit on surfaces. It had seeped down deep, woven into the walls, crusted between the floorboards. This place was a tomb that had learned to keep breathing.

Lucien slid through the door in a single fluid step, barely a whisper of sound as it scraped open on a groaning hinge. His boots thudded across the warped wood with just enough weight to announce him, though not so much as to beg for attention. The beat from the half-dead speaker behind the bar rumbled low like a fevered heartbeat, echoing through the floor and straight into his bones. His coat hung open, sweat bleeding through the collar, sticking to his neck where the heat clung like desperation. Beneath the worn shirt, the Ledger pulsed low and steady, a slow heartbeat of ink and contracts and buried promises.

Ledger Notification

Soul-bound Ledger Status: ONLINECurrent Boons Pending: 2Client Activity: Lucien Blackmoore — 4 contracts activeIncoming Threat: Iron Crow bounties updated (2 en route)Last Signature Ping: Cassian Drayce — unauthorized sigil trace detectedRecommend: Secure location, review client queue

The smirk on Lucien's face didn't falter. That grin was worn-in, carved deep, something between a weapon and a crutch. The Rust Lantern wasn't just a dive—it was a pressure cooker for people who'd already blown up once or twice. He knew this ecosystem well. You survived here by looking like you couldn't be killed.

His eyes swept the room. Broken hustlers hunched at tables, twitching and grinding their teeth like they were chewing gravel just to stay grounded. Brawlers nursed bruises that hadn't stopped bleeding yet. Lowlifes watched the door like it might grow teeth. At the far end of the bar, two Iron Crows loitered stiff, all leather and attitude, the kind of mercs who sold muscle by the hour and pride by the bottle. Their eyes locked on Lucien the moment he stepped in, pupils shrinking like they'd caught scent of fresh prey.

He smiled wider, just for them. "Elise," he muttered through the corner of his mouth, hunting the one person who hadn't tried to kill him yet this week.

Behind the bar, Elise worked the counter like it owed her rent. She didn't look up at first, just ran a filthy rag across the wood in slow, practiced circles. Her curls were tied back in a loose knot, strands escaping like they had minds of their own. The light caught in her eyes when she finally glanced over—sharp and unamused, like shattered glass caught in motion. No fear, no surprise. She read the room before it ever made a move.

Lucien approached slow, letting the tension wrap around him like a second coat. "Evenin', darlin'," he said, voice low and velvety, laced with that dry swagger he wore like armor. "This place feels like a trap tonight, but you? You're the safest thing in arm's reach. Got room for one more ghost at the bar?"

She slid a chipped glass toward him without breaking her rhythm. "You talk like you think that charm's still working."

"It's not?" Lucien raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer. "Guess I'll have to work harder."

She snorted, almost smiled. "Trouble's your cologne, Blackmoore. Lucky for you, I've got a nose for it."

Ledger Update

Elise Tanara: Informant tier confirmedRole: Shelter, Information RelayPast Dealings: 3 contracts fulfilledLoyalty Index: 87%Threat Level: Minimal"She's not bluffing. Don't test her aim."

Lucien kept the grin but shifted his weight. The Iron Crows had moved. One stepped forward, slow but deliberate, boots thudding like warning bells. The other angled around a booth, trying to box him in. He caught their approach in the mirror behind the bar, didn't flinch.

He swirled the drink, took a long sip, then muttered, "We gonna dance or pretend this place doesn't have a murder policy?"

Neither thug answered, but the one on the left lunged—fast and sloppy. Lucien twisted, ducked under the grab, fingers sliding along his coat's inner seam toward a blade that slept cold and ready.

The second Crow growled, raising a clenched fist, but Lucien was already gone, sliding between bodies like smoke curling through broken glass. The bar's rhythm shifted with him. Voices rose, chairs scraped, tension popped like old knuckles.

"Easy," Lucien said, sidestepping behind a rickety table. "I came for a drink, not a brawl. But I'll take whatever keeps my blood moving."

He backed toward the wall near the jukebox. The machine buzzed weakly, tossing out warped tunes no one could name. Behind it, on the wall, something caught his eye. A spiral. Sloppy. Rushed. Burned into the plaster in a hurry.

Cassian.

The lines weren't clean. Looked more like a branding iron dragged too slow across skin. Lucien touched it with two fingers, felt the grime flake off under his nails. The signature was fresh.

"Elise," he murmured without turning. "Another one. Same pattern. Bastard's getting bold."

She leaned close enough for her voice to buzz against his jaw. "He's painting the town red. And you're standing on his canvas."

Lucien thumbed the brass watch, listening to the tick tick tick grind through the static in his head. The Ledger pulsed hotter against his chest.

Ledger Alert

Unauthorized Signature: Cassian DrayceDesignation: Trace Sigil (Decay Class)Estimated Impact: 4 blocks compromisedAction: Recommend expunge or redirect

He exhaled slow. "City's infected. His marks are spreading like rot."

Elise's hand landed light on his wrist, grounding him for a beat. "Got a back room. Door behind the cooler. You need to ghost out, that's your tunnel."

Lucien let his smile drop. This one was real, jagged around the edges. "You ever get tired of saving my life?"

"Only when you forget to say thank you."

The first Iron Crow surged again, table flying in his wake. Lucien didn't wait. He grabbed a busted pool cue off the wall and sent it spinning into the thug's gut. Wood cracked, air exploded out of the merc like a popped tire.

The bar howled. Shouts and curses tangled in the air. Patrons scattered or ducked. A bottle shattered nearby. Lucien spun into the chaos, dodging elbows and cheap threats, sliding past the second Crow with a grin and a muttered, "Wrong place, wrong payday."

He slipped behind the bar as Elise popped the latch on a hidden door. He ducked inside and yanked it shut behind him.

The sound of the fight dulled instantly. Just him, the smell of mold and dry rust, and the soft static hum of the Ledger still thudding in his chest.

He slid to the floor, back against the crumbling plaster. Neon from outside trickled through a broken vent, coloring the room in weak pink and pale green. His heartbeat slowed.

Ledger: Contract Queue

Active Threads:Dren Halwick — Memory-for-Protection Pact 3 weeks leftNal Veyra — Curse Reversal Pending Boon UnlockTomas Lithe — Soul Echo Stabilization Request flaggedCassian Drayce — Marked for Tracer Violation

The name glowed hotter than the rest. Cassian was edging closer. Not through doors, but through symbols, echoes, and debt trails.

Lucien pressed a palm to his chest. The Ledger wasn't just a ledger. It was a war drum. Every beat said someone's watching. Someone's waiting.

Elise knocked once on the door. Her voice came quiet but clear. "You want a drink or a plan?"

Lucien smiled. "Both. But tonight, I'll settle for staying alive."

The Rust Lantern wheezed back to life beyond the door. Lucien sat in the dark, coat heavy with sweat, breath slowed, grin still sharp.

Let Cassian paint the city. He'd just burn the frame.