A GHOST AT WORK
It had been four days since the chase in Alderwood Valley.
Four days since Isaac had effortlessly slipped away from the Iron Hounds' so-called "perfect" trap.
Four days since nothing had happened.
And that was what bothered him.
Isaac sat on the edge of a wooden railing atop a merchant’s outpost, one leg dangling lazily, the other bent at the knee. Below him, the usual sounds of trade filled the air. Coins clinking, bartering shouts, the occasional argument over prices.
Life moved on.
And so had he.
After the valley encounter, he had returned to business as usual. Moving packages, carrying messages, running supplies.
The chase hadn’t changed that.
It had only confirmed what he already knew.
The Iron Hounds wanted him.
And now, they understood what they were dealing with.
So why had they done nothing?
Isaac leaned back slightly, adjusting the gloves on his hands. His mask, still smooth and featureless, remained unreadable as ever.
Four days.
No patrols looking for him.
No hired mercenaries asking questions.
No changes in the city guard or guild politics.
Nothing.
And that meant one of two things.
Either the Iron Hounds had given up.
Or..
They were planning something bigger.
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A SIMPLE JOB
Isaac shook off the thought for now.
He had a job to finish.
Standing up, he dropped effortlessly from the railing, landing in a near-silent crouch. He pulled a small, cloth-wrapped package from his satchel and made his way through the marketplace, blending into the sea of adventurers, traders, and common folk.
His destination was a small corner shop, tucked between two larger buildings. The sign above it read: "Seraphine's Remedies & Curiosities."
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Isaac pushed open the door, stepping into the scent of dried herbs and faint incense.
A woman looked up from behind the counter.
Seraphine.
She was a half-elf alchemist. Older than she looked, with graying auburn hair tied in a loose braid. Her sharp eyes flicked over him, lingering for a second on his mask.
“You again.” she said, voice dry. “Was starting to think you’d gotten yourself killed.”
Isaac tossed the package onto the counter. “Not yet.”
She snorted. “Shame. Would’ve saved me some money.”
He chuckled softly. “Maybe next time.”
She unwrapped the package, revealing several small vials of deep blue liquid. The moment she saw them, her expression turned serious.
“…Is this what I think it is?”
Isaac nodded. “Potion-grade aether. Unprocessed.”
Seraphine let out a low whistle. “Damn. This is worth a fortune in the right hands.” She shot him a look. “Who’d you steal it from?”
Isaac raised his hands in mock innocence. “Hey now, I’m just the courier.”
Seraphine smirked. “Sure. And I’m the queen of Eldermere.”
She reached under the counter, pulling out a small leather pouch.
“Your payment. Try not to spend it all in one place.”
Isaac took the pouch, testing its weight. Not bad. Not amazing. But enough.
With a small nod, he turned to leave.
Just before he stepped outside, Seraphine called after him.
“Stay out of trouble, Relay.”
Isaac paused.
Then, without looking back, he simply replied.
“No promises.”
And he was gone.
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THE IRON HOUNDS’ SILENCE
Isaac moved through the streets, thoughts drifting back to the Iron Hounds.
He hadn’t seen them.
Hadn’t heard their name whispered in taverns.
Hadn’t caught even a hint of their next move.
Which meant they were either waiting for something… or planning something dangerous.
Isaac sighed, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.
Waiting for an attack was always the most boring part.
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FORT BLACKTHORN.
The Iron Hounds' headquarters stood tall against the darkening sky, its high stone walls reinforced with new watchtowers and siege defenses.
Inside, Garrus Ironjaw stood before a massive war table, his arms crossed. His officers surrounded him, tense and focused.
A large map of the region was spread before them, with several red-marked locations.
Isaac’s routes.
For the past four days, they had done nothing.
Not because they had given up but because they had been preparing.
Garrus wasn’t going to waste resources on another chase.
No, this time… he was going to force Relay to come to them.
He turned to Drake, one of his most trusted lieutenants.
“Is everything in place?”
Drake nodded. “Yes, sir. Our men are stationed at the checkpoints. Every major route he uses is covered. If he wants to keep working, he’ll have to go through us.”
Lena leaned against the table. “You think he’ll take the bait?”
Garrus grinned.
“Oh, he will.”
He looked down at the map, at the one marked location that would be impossible for Relay to ignore.
“Because this time.” Garrus said, voice dark and confident, “we aren’t hunting him.”
He tapped a spot on the map.
“We’re hunting his clients.”
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THE TRAP IS SET
All across the region, Iron Hound enforcers moved into position.
They didn’t chase Relay.
They didn’t search for him.
They didn’t even talk about him.
Instead..
They started taking control of the courier trade.
Merchants who used to rely on Relay now found Iron Hound mercenaries waiting for them.
Secret delivery spots were suddenly patrolled.
Runners and messengers were intercepted, their letters confiscated.
Slowly, methodically. Relay’s entire network was being suffocated.
They weren’t hunting him anymore.
They were making sure he had nowhere to run.
And sooner or later.
Isaac would have to act.