The sound of hooves thudded rhythmically against the earth as the group traveled in tense silence. The adrenaline from the fight had worn off, leaving an uneasy quiet. It wasn’t long before one of them broke it.

“He’s licking his wounds now,” someone muttered, eyes scanning the horizon, the tension still evident in their voice. “Iscariot thought he was untouchable. He just found out he’s not immortal.”

There was a murmur of agreement as the group exchanged glances. The realization that they had weakened Iscariot, even if just for a moment, was a fragile victory.

Thebe, who had been walking alongside the horses, turned to face them and began walking backward, her brows furrowed in thought. “Zavet attacked his soul,” she said, her voice laced with disbelief. “Somehow… wherever he was, he touched something deep, powerful. I had to use my magic to find and bring him back. But it was strange; what I felt from him wasn’t like any soul I’d felt before. It was soft... compassionate.”

Her eyes moved between them all, searching for confirmation of her feelings. “There’s no way he’s like us.”

Talich, riding just beside her, looked down at Thebe with a knowing smile. His dark eyes softened, and he nodded slightly as if he had known this all along. “He’s a good kid,” Talich said quietly, his voice filled with a warmth that contrasted with the hardened necromancer he usually presented. “Not yet corrupted by power.”

The others remained silent, the words hanging heavily between them. None of them could easily reconcile Zavet’s purity in the face of such dark magic. They had all been touched by the corrupting influence of necromancy, shaped by its demands and the allure of its power. Zavet, despite all he had been through, seemed to retain something they had lost long ago: a sense of goodness and compassion.

Thebe bit her lip, her mind racing back to the moment she had reached into the void to pull Zavet’s soul back. She had felt it then, like the first light of dawn, something untouched by darkness. How could someone wield necromantic power and still possess such purity?

“Iscariot won’t let this go,” Krimlond said after a moment, breaking the reflective silence. “Now that he knows Zavet Is capable of reaching his soul, he’ll be after him more than ever.”

Talich nodded in agreement. “He tasted fear. That’s new for him. But Zavet… Zavet might be the key to ending him for good.”

Runner, riding near the back of the group, kept his gaze ahead but remained quiet. He was still processing everything that had happened, replaying the moment when Zavet had nearly died in his mind. His friend had fought with a power none of them had anticipated, and yet, when Thebe had reached for his soul, she found kindness instead of vengeance.

“He’s not like us,” Runner whispered to himself, but there was something hopeful in his words as if he was grateful that someone in their ranks still carried a light in such a dark world.

As they continued their journey, the conversation shifted to other matters, but the thought of Zavet lingered with each of them. They knew he had chosen to stay in the grove alone, along with the memories of his family. It was a heavy burden to carry, and while they wanted to protect him, they also understood this was something he needed to face on his own.

As the group finally reached the city of Ffairfon, the sense of urgency and intensity from their recent encounter began to fade. They all knew they had different paths to take now, so one by one, they parted ways. Thebe, Talich, and the others went on to fulfill their responsibilities, while Runner, with Alley close by his side, set his course for Nuri'Fon.

The journey to Nuri'Fon was quiet, but there was an air of anticipation between them. Alley clung to Runner as they traveled. She had been through much, and though they hadn't known each other long, the bond they formed was growing. When they finally approached the river just outside the city, Runner knew it was time to reach out to Red.

Runner remembered what Red had told him; there was a certain way to signal if he wanted a meeting. It wasn’t long before they reached the riverbank, where Runner performed the small ritual, leaving behind the usual subtle signs that would draw Red's attention. Then, he sat back on the grassy riverbank, Alley beside him, and waited.

As they waited, the gentle sound of the flowing river provided a brief moment of calm. Alley leaned against Runner, her head resting on his shoulder. Her quiet presence comforted him, reminding him they were not alone despite everything they had been through.

After an hour, a rustling sound came from the nearby trees. Runner’s eyes darted to the tree line, and moments later, Red emerged from the shadows with his usual casual swagger. His dark cloak blended with the evening light, giving him an almost ghostly appearance. Despite his sudden arrival, he greeted them warmly.

"Hey, Runner. Nice to see you," Red said, his smile as mischievous as ever as he extended his hand.

Runner stood up and shook Red’s hand firmly. "Nice to see you too, Red." Runner’s voice had a sense of purpose. "I'm looking for work. I need to earn some gold, enough to start building a place of my own once things settle down."

Red nodded thoughtfully, his eyes flickering with understanding. He glanced at Alley, who had stood up beside Runner. "And who’s this?" he asked, his tone curious but friendly.

Alley smiled somewhat sheepishly. "Sorry, I guess Runner didn’t introduce me. I'm Alley. I’m not anybody important. I’ve been running with Krumlond’s crew, but I’m not a member or anything like that."

Red sized her up quickly, then gave a casual nod of approval. "Well, if Runner trusts you, then I trust you too. Welcome."

Alley smiled, visibly relaxing as she felt accepted.

Turning his attention back to Runner, Red’s expression became more serious. "So, you need work? Well, I’ve got two jobs for you, both pretty important. The first one is time-sensitive. We're going to hit a merchant, rob him. He’s been running goods we need, and it’s time we collect what's owed."

Runner nodded, his expression hardening. "What about the second job?"

Red smiled again, this time with a darker edge. "The second job’s a little more... personal. After we hit him, I need you to find this merchant’s house, break-in, and eliminate his house guardians. Once they’re gone, I need you to replace them and give them a simple command: kill the merchant in his sleep every night until he’s gone for good. We can’t let him come back."

Alley’s eyes widened at the brutality of the task, but she remained silent, letting Runner do the talking.

Runner took a deep breath, considering the task at hand. "What did this guy do to deserve this?"

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Red’s smile twisted into something colder. "He used to be one of us. But he sold us out to the Black Creek Syndicate. He also stole a hefty chunk of product that keeps our operation running. Let’s just say we can’t afford to let that slide."

Runner clenched his fists, already committed to what needed to be done. "Understood. I’ll get it done."

Red’s grin returned, this time full of approval. "Good. I knew I could count on you." He glanced at Alley again, then back to Runner. " Runner, make sure this job doesn’t go south. The last thing we need is for the Black Creek Syndicate to sniff around our business."

Red turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving Runner and Alley by the riverbank. The tension between them felt palpable. Alley, who had remained silent during the exchange, finally spoke up.

"You sure about this, Runner?" she asked quietly, her voice filled with concern.

Runner looked at her, his face grave but calm. "We need this, Alley. If we want to build a life, we need the gold. And this merchant… he made his choice. He betrayed Red, and now he has to pay the price."

Alley nodded slowly, though a part of her still seemed uneasy. She trusted Runner and knew their world wasn’t kind, but she had never been involved in something so ruthless.

The two mounted horses and rode toward the merchant's location as the sun set, casting the river in an orange glow.

Runner knew the job wouldn’t be easy, so he carefully planned his next move. He wasn’t about to take on this merchant alone, especially after hearing about the merchant’s history and the Black Creek Syndicate’s potential involvement. The stakes were too high, and the enemy too formidable. So, before the heist, Runner rounded up a few trusted members of the Riverfoot Bandits, a crew known for their agility and cunning in ambushes. They were seasoned fighters and learned how to handle themselves in tight spots. Alongside him, Alley stayed close, determined to prove her worth.

They gathered at the meeting point, a secluded bend in the road where Red had instructed them to lay the trap. The terrain was perfect: the road curved just enough to hide their preparations from anyone approaching, and the dense forest surrounding the area made for easy cover. The plan was simple. They would cut down a large tree, blocking the road just as the merchant’s caravan rounded the bend, and when the caravan stopped, they'd strike.

The bandits worked swiftly and quietly, chopping away at a massive oak tree. Runner supervised the operation, keeping one eye on the road for any sign of the approaching caravan. As the final axe strikes weakened the tree, the bandits looked like simple loggers clearing a fallen obstacle. With her natural charm, Alley played the part of a local girl helping out.

Soon, the caravan came into view, a covered wagon pulled by sturdy horses with a few hired guards walking beside it. The merchant’s emblem, a gnarled tree overlaid with gold, was emblazoned on the wagon’s side. This was the target. Runner motioned to the others, and with a mighty crash, the tree they had prepared fell across the road, blocking the caravan’s path.

Runner stepped forward, raising his hand in a friendly gesture, doing his best to appear non-threatening. "Hey, sorry, the road’s closed for a bit," he said with a disarming smile. "We had a tree come down, and we’re working on clearing it up. Shouldn’t take too long."

The caravan slowed to a halt, the merchant leaning out from the back of his covered wagon, his suspicious eyes narrowing at the sight of Runner and his crew. "Closed, you say?" The gnome merchant’s voice was sharp, tinged with suspicion. He scanned the area, clearly on edge. He wasn’t about to trust a bunch of strangers, especially in this territory. Another tree crashing down behind the caravan echoed through the forest just then. The merchant's guards looked back to see the blocked path on both sides.

Realizing the trap, the merchant jumped from his seat and scrambled back into the wagon, barking orders to his guards. But before they could react, four golden golems burst from the wagon. They were hulking constructs, gleaming in the afternoon light, their bodies intricately carved from solid gold and powered by ancient magic. These golems were no ordinary opponents; they were designed for combat, immune to most magic, and impervious to poison, sleep, and necromancy. Their singular purpose was to protect the merchant at all costs, and they attacked the nearest bandit with unrelenting force.

The first bandit was struck, thrown back into the dirt by the sheer power of one golem’s punch. Another golem slammed its fist into the ground, sending a shockwave that knocked two more bandits off their feet. The air filled with the clash of steel and the shouts of Runner’s crew as they struggled to fight the golems with little effect. Arrows bounced off the golems' golden armor like pebbles, and sword strikes barely left a scratch. The constructs’ immunity to magic and immense strength made them almost invulnerable.

But Runner’s team wasn’t without their tricks. One of the bandits, a wiry man named Farron, had a talent for lightning magic. He focused his energy, summoning a bolt of electricity that cracked through the air and struck one of the golems square in the chest. The golem’s golden form crackled and sparked as the magic disrupted its internal mechanisms, slowing it down. Seeing the effect, Farron unleashed another bolt, and this time, the golem’s chestplate shattered, bringing the towering construct to its knees before it collapsed in a heap of golden debris.

With renewed hope, the bandits focused their efforts on the remaining golems. They fought smart, using a combination of teamwork and lightning magic to weaken the constructs until, one by one, the golems fell. The battle was brutal and exhausting, but the last of the golden guardians was eventually reduced to a pile of broken parts and melted gold.

Runner, breathing heavily but uninjured, wiped the sweat from his brow and turned his attention to the merchant. The gnome had tried to hide in the back of his wagon, but there was no escape. Runner yanked open the wagon door and dragged the merchant out by the collar, throwing him roughly to the ground. The gnome struggled, his tiny hands clawing at Runner's grip, but it was useless. Runner's strength was overwhelming.

"Please!" the merchant gasped, his voice filled with fear. "I-I’ll pay you! Whatever you want! Gold, gems, whatever, just let me live!"

But Runner wasn’t interested in bargaining. This was more than a simple robbery—this was revenge for the betrayal of Red and the Riverfoot Bandits. The merchant had crossed a line and would now pay the ultimate price.

"You sold us out," Runner growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You stole from us. You knew what was coming."

The merchant's eyes widened with terror as Runner pulled a small vial from his belt filled with a dark, swirling liquid, a lethal poison known for its horrific effects on the body. Runner had used it before and knew how devastating it could be.

The gnome tried to scramble away, but Runner was too fast. He grabbed the merchant by the throat and forced him to sit on the ground. "You should’ve known better," Runner said coldly as he uncorked the vial and held it in front of the merchant’s face.

"No! Please!" the merchant screamed, but it was too late. Runner forced the vial to the merchant’s mouth, pouring the poison down his throat.

The effects were immediate. The merchant's face contorted in agony as the poison spread through his body, rotting him from the inside out. He clutched at his chest, gasping for breath, but his lungs were already filling with blood. His eyes rolled back in his head as blood began to pour from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. His body convulsed violently as the poison took hold, and within moments, he was dead.

Runner stood over the corpse, his face emotionless as he wiped his hands clean. The rest of the bandits gathered around, their eyes fixed on the lifeless body of the merchant. There was no joy in the kill, only the cold satisfaction of a well-done job.

"Get rid of the body," Runner ordered, his voice steady. "Make it look like a robbery gone wrong."

As the bandits moved to clean up the scene, Alley stood silently beside Runner, her face pale. She had seen death before, but this was different. This was cold, calculated, and ruthless. She glanced at Runner, but he didn’t meet her eyes. This was their chosen life, and there was no turning back now.

Runner wasted no time after the merchant's body was disposed of. He barked orders to his crew to dismantle the golden golems. “Take what’s left of them and have someone melt these down into gold,” he said, knowing the wealth they’d gain from it. Each golem would be worth at least three hundred gold apiece. The haul from this heist would be enormous, and it would fund their operations for months. He wasn’t about to let any opportunity slip by.

The group gathered the gold and the goods and then loaded them into carts where they had stashed nearby. With that task complete, they began the second part of their mission: breaking into the merchant’s house. Red had made it clear this wasn’t just about taking the man’s life but dismantling everything he had built, piece by piece. Runner and his crew needed to destroy the merchant’s sense of security to ensure he would never return to the world of the living.