Cliff’s thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the door. Three figures stepped in, clad in the emblematic silver-and-black garb of a prominent merchant guild, their eyes scanning the shop curiously. The leader, a tall, imposing man with a shaved head and a silver chain tattoo around his wrist, stepped forward, flashing a well-practiced smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Cliff, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice smooth and inviting. “We’re from the Silverchain Guild. My name’s Marshal.” He extended a hand, his eyes sharp as they studied Cliff’s face. “Thought we’d come by personally to discuss our offer. Seems like you’ve got quite the operation here.”

Cliff took the man’s hand reluctantly, noting the iron-tight grip that betrayed an intensity beneath the polished demeanor. “I got your letter. Appreciate the offer, but—”

Marshal held up a hand, a smirk forming on his face. “No need to decide now. We know you have reservations. But that’s why we’re here, to clear up any… misunderstandings. You know, there’s a lot of talk about what we do, most of it exaggerated. That’s why we’d like you to see our methods firsthand.”

One of his associates, a woman with piercing eyes and a calculating expression, stepped forward. “Imagine it, Cliff,” she said smoothly. “Access to materials that would take you months to gather, and with our techniques, those materials are extracted in ways that barely affect the creatures. We’re sustainable. Efficient. Just like any business needs to be.”

Cliff raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced but curious despite himself. “And what about the Rocs? I’ve heard how Silverchain treats them. The other beasts, too. The injuries, the scars…”

The third member of the group, a lanky man with a glint of mischief in his eye, chuckled. “Those are old tales. Nowadays, we use state-of-the-art spells and enchantments. Minimal damage. You should come see for yourself. We’ll even take you to a panel discussion at our headquarters, show you the whole process from start to finish. Who knows, maybe we can learn from each other, hm?”

Cliff frowned, feeling the weight of their words but also the sense of Neil’s warning in the back of his mind. He crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as he studied each of their faces. “Why the sudden interest in my shop? I’m just a small merchant, and we both know Silverchain’s got enough suppliers.”

Marshal’s smile never faltered. “You’ve stirred up quite a bit of talk, Cliff. There’s a growing market for ethically-sourced goods, and people want that assurance. They want to believe they’re getting something that respects the land and its creatures. We could use someone like you to help bridge that gap between us and, well… people like the beastmasters.”

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There it was, the flattery, mixed with just the right touch of temptation. Cliff’s mind raced, torn between the lure of resources that could take his shop to the next level and the feeling that he was being led into a trap.

“What’s in it for me, besides the materials?” Cliff asked cautiously, keeping his voice steady.

Marshal’s expression softened, as if sensing that he was getting through. “Partnership, Cliff. Real partnership. You’d gain allies, wealth, protection… We’re more than just a guild; we’re an institution. Think about what that could mean for your business, for your legacy. Upgrading your rank means a bigger shop. More blacksmiths and alchemists partners. More ways to protect your beloved magical creatures. And as for the Rocs, I promise—come see for yourself. See how we handle them, see how we work, and then decide.”

The offer hung in the air, as tempting as it was unsettling. Cliff wanted to believe they’d changed, that they had better methods, but his instincts warned him otherwise. He thought of Elara’s fierce protection of the creatures in her care, of the trust he’d worked so hard to build with the her and the other beastmasters. Could he risk throwing it all away for a partnership that might end up compromising everything he’d fought for?

Finally, Cliff sighed. “Alright, I’ll come see what you’ve got. But understand this—if I see anything that contradicts your claims of minimal harm, we’re done. I’ll walk away, and I’ll make sure everyone knows what I saw.”

Marshal’s grin widened, though a flicker of something dark flashed in his eyes. “Of course, Cliff. We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They agreed to meet at the Silverchain headquarters the next evening, and as Cliff watched them leave, a chill ran down his spine. He knew this was dangerous territory, but if he was going to keep building his vision for an ethical business, he needed to understand exactly what he was up against.

The door creaked open again, and this time, Elara stepped inside. Her usual serene demeanor was replaced with a tension that made the air feel thick. Her sharp eyes caught sight of the letter in Cliff’s hand immediately, and her expression darkened.

“You’ve heard, then,” she said, her voice low and strained. “Cool acting, by the way. You could be on one of those plays.”

“Thanks. I did a little bit of theater back at university.” Cliff nodded, setting the letter down on the counter. “They’ve made their move.”

They had been in contact with one another, sending letters via owls or other birds of the forest. Cliff had bought a packet of bird seeds for them. Elara had told Cliff that apart from the beasts of the forests, the other abusive guilds had been collecting rare herbs, burning and hacking away at thick trees protecting the rare ingredients. Elara and the other druid beastmasters have separated temporarily to protect the other wildlife and flora from extinction. The druid, on her own, decided to contact the only friend she’d known.

Elara stepped closer to Cliff, folding her arms. “Thanks for the cloaking spell you used in the seeds that my birds have been feeding on. They can spy around the different guilds within the spell’s time limit. I know how expensive that spell is, too.” Elara nodded at Cliff. “The guild’s been capturing more creatures than we realized. They’re not just overharvesting herbs anymore. They’re rounding up more beasts from the forest. Caging them, experimenting on them. It’s worse than we thought, Cliff. We need your help.”