The Syndicate’s Plot: Shadows Beneath the Surface

The hidden chamber beneath the streets of Kaelbor was dimly lit by a single lantern, casting flickering shadows on the damp stone walls. The air was thick with tension, the gravity of their mission pressing down on each conspirator. Around a weathered wooden table, the Syndicate’s inner circle gathered, their faces a mixture of determination and grim resolve. At the head of the table stood Lode, their leader, his piercing gaze scanning the group. This was no ordinary gathering—it was the beginning of a mission that could shake the very foundations of the empire.  
Their target: Samuel Greeve’s grand dinner party, an opulent affair that promised to bring some of the empire’s most powerful nobles under one roof.  
Lode placed his hand on a rough map of Greeve’s estate spread across the table. “This is our opportunity,” he began, his voice calm but commanding. “Samuel Greeve’s party will gather the empire’s elite in one place. We’ll infiltrate the estate, poison their food, and, if necessary, resort to bloodshed. Our goal is simple—kill as many of those bastards as possible and send a message that the empire isn’t untouchable.”  
The operatives nodded, each silently committing to their role. Silent Death, the enigmatic assassin, stood motionless in the shadows, his hood pulled low over his face. Dex, ever the smirking provocateur, leaned against the wall with an air of confidence. Munvig Zi, tall and stoic, studied the map intently, his arms crossed. Turek, the warlock, stood apart, his gaunt features half-lit by the flickering lantern.  
The Plan
Lode gestured at the map, tapping various locations with his finger. “Munvig, you and I will pose as guests. We’ll bring a few lesser operatives to blend in. Our job is to mingle, observe, and ensure the poison reaches its target. If things go as planned, we’ll strike with precision and leave before they even realize what happened.”  
Munvig nodded, his expression calm. “And the poison? Which course are we targeting?”  
Lode shook his head. “That decision will depend on what we observe that night. We need to identify the moment when we can strike without raising suspicion. That’s where the rest of you come in.”  
He turned his attention to Dex and Silent Death. “You two will infiltrate as part of the serving staff. Dex, you’ll work the dining room, serving the guests directly. Silent Death, you’ll move between the kitchen and the hall, ensuring nothing goes awry. If anyone becomes suspicious, you deal with it—quietly.”  
Dex gave a mocking salute, his smirk widening. “Poisoning their fancy food, slipping a knife between ribs if things go south—sounds like a party I can get behind.”  
Silent Death gave a single, silent nod. His presence alone was enough to confirm his commitment.  
Finally, Lode looked at Turek. “You’ll be the bartender. The nobles will trust you to pour their drinks and keep their glasses full. If the poison plan falls apart, you’ll be in a position to create a distraction. But if the plan is exposed entirely…” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “…then you’ll unleash chaos.”  
Turek’s lips curled into a dark smile. “Chaos is my specialty. And if the situation demands, I’ll summon the demon we discussed. It’ll tear through the guards, scatter the guests, and give us the chaos we need to escape—and maybe more.”  
Munvig stiffened, his voice cutting through the room. “And if you lose control of that thing, warlock? What happens then?”  
Turek shrugged with unsettling nonchalance. “If the nobles are dead or dying, does it really matter?”  
“Enough,” Lode snapped, silencing the brewing argument. “The demon is a last resort, and it’ll only be used under my direct command. Until then, we stick to the plan.”  
Preparations  
Lode leaned forward, his tone more measured now. “We won’t be going in blind. Other operatives have already been assigned to infiltrate the estate in the weeks leading up to the party. They’ll hide weapons on the premises, scout for vulnerabilities, and establish escape routes. If things go wrong, we’ll have contingencies in place to ensure at least some of us get out alive.”  
Dex raised an eyebrow. “Weapons, scouting, escape routes... sounds like they’re doing most of the work for us.”  
“They’re tools,” Lode replied coldly. “We’re the ones who will carry out the strike. But their efforts will ensure we’re ready for anything.”  
As Lode continued explaining the logistics, his expression darkened. “There’s one more thing you need to be aware of. Marshal Remus Crowhel is expected to attend.”  
The room grew heavy with unease. Even Turek’s ever-present smirk faltered.  
“The hero of the empire himself,” Lode continued. “Crowhel isn’t just a warrior—he’s cunning. If anyone at that party senses our presence, it’ll be him. Do not, under any circumstances, underestimate him. Avoid him if you can, but if you’re forced to confront him…” Lode’s gaze swept over the room, steely and unforgiving. “…don’t hesitate to kill him. He’s just another cog in the imperial machine.”  
A Hidden Agenda  
As the meeting wound down, Lode began assigning final tasks, ensuring everyone understood their role in the operation. When the others began filing out, he gestured for Munvig to stay behind.  
“There’s something else we need to discuss,” Lode said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.  
Munvig raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for his leader to continue.  
“It’s a secondary objective,” Lode said, his tone deliberate. “Something that could change the game entirely. But it’s not for everyone to know.”  
Munvig frowned but nodded. “What do you need from me?”  
“When the time comes, I’ll explain everything. For now, focus on your role. Trust me, Munvig. This mission is about more than just spilling blood. It’s about sending a message that will echo across the empire.”  
Munvig’s expression remained unreadable, but he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. “You have my trust, Lode. Just tell me what to do.”  
Lode nodded, clapping Munvig on the shoulder. “Good. Now, get some rest. We’ve got months of preparation ahead, and I need you at your best.”  
As Munvig left the chamber, Lode remained behind, staring at the map of Greeve’s estate. The plan was in motion, but deep in his mind, Lode knew that success would require more than precision—it would demand sacrifice, cunning, and unrelenting determination. And for him, there was no turning back.