Business on Spendworth Hills, Silvertoll Summits, and Ledgegrove Bazaar swelled again.
The leaders of each city sat in a closed meeting, weighing how to take advantage of Cairnlight Barterhold.
A man with a mustache wore a glass loupe with layered lenses on his forehead. One look said expert appraiser.
"I saw their shops. It was masterfully done. We copied their setup, and the old man over there did not seem to mind," he said.
Another man, metal knuckle dusters still on his hands, planted his fists on the table.
"Our business is not about shops. The problem is this. What if they start taking work such as assassination, just like us?"
The thin man in a herb stained robe chuckled.
"Naive. Do you think that old man is petty enough to make trouble with us? Do not overthink it. If he wanted to, would we not be undead by now?"
The others nodded. Centuries of age had not dulled their instinct to move, only taught them when to hesitate. The man with the loupe spoke again.
