Embrace of the void

As Nyxar stepped into the underground city, he was enveloped by the sights and sounds of the black market. Dimly lit stalls lined the cobblestone streets, each one brimming with illicit goods and whispered secrets. The air was thick with the scent of smoke, potions, and the underlying tension of countless deals struck in shadows.

Navigating the bustling thoroughfare, Nyxar kept his senses sharp, aware that each passerby could be an ally or a potential threat. He adjusted the mask on his face, its dark fabric a shield against prying eyes. His objective was clear: gather information on the orc's supporters, and he knew just where to start.

Stopping at a stall draped in tattered fabrics, he approached an elderly merchant known for his connections. The merchant's eyes flickered over Nyxar's mask, but he continued his work, weighing strange herbs and vials.

"What can I do for you, masked one?" the merchant asked, his voice gravelly.

"I'm looking for some crucial information," Nyxar said, leaning in to ensure his words remained private from the nearby passersby.

The merchant, eyeing Nyxar from head to toe, asked, "What kind of information?"

Nyxar let out a low chuckle. "Information that could get you beheaded."

The merchant's expression shifted, and he motioned for someone to assist him. Without further ado, he gestured for Nyxar to follow him.

They walked to a building constructed of dark stone, entering while ignoring the bustle of the market around them. Upon reaching a door, the merchant knocked and then stepped inside.

The room was small, furnished with a large sofa and two comfortable chairs, centered around a modest table. A woman sat on the sofa, her features partly obscured by vision goggles.

The merchant and Nyxar took their seats.

 "How can I assist you?" the woman inquired, her voice measured.

The merchant replied, "My friend is seeking sensitive information and prefers it to remain discreet."

The woman fixed her cold gaze on Nyxar. "Speak, and I will see what I can do."

Nyxar took a deep breath and recounted the details about the orc village and the two individuals they had observed there. "I want to know who those people are."

The woman considered for a moment before responding. "This will be challenging and will come at a cost. While we lack specific intel on the orc village, not many can supply them with weapons and armor. They also possess a magical white flying beast. I can dig into this, but you'll need to return in two hours."

"Understood," Nyxar replied, exiting the room as the merchant and woman resumed their conversation.

Stepping back into the vibrant chaos of the black market, Nyxar began to explore the various stalls, assessing what supplies would be necessary for their upcoming mission.

"We'll need some bombs and smoke bombs. We've got enough magic potions," he thought to himself. "I also need a storage ring."

After a thorough search, Nyxar purchased a storage ring with a capacity of 100 cubic meters, an additional mask, several explosive bombs, a smoke bomb, and two invisibility cloaks.

"That should suffice for now. I need to reserve some funds to pay for the information; I can't risk running out of money," he concluded.

With his purchases in hand, Nyxar waited patiently, and soon enough, two hours had flown by.

Returning to the building, he found the merchant and the woman waiting for him in the same room.

"Did you manage to gather the information?" Nyxar asked, taking his seat.

"Yes, we have everything you need. Do you have the money?" the woman replied.

Nyxar produced a small bag filled with gold coins and tossed it to her.

She counted the coins, a satisfied look crossing her face. "That's more than adequate."

In exchange, the woman handed him an information crystal brimming with valuable details. Nyxar examined the crystal briefly before rising to leave.

As he exited the black market, he deftly maneuvered through the crowd, making his way back home. A few individuals attempted to trail him, but they quickly lost ground.

 "Next time, I'll make sure to deal with you fools," Nyxar thought, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

With a swift activation of his innate ability, he teleported back to the safety of his home, leaving the chaos of the black market behind.

After a series of movements, Nyxar finally returned home. Michael, deeply engaged in his training, sensed Nyxar's approach through their spiritual connection. Moments later, Nyxar appeared before him.

Michael sat on the floor, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily.

 "Were you busy with something else? Oh right, you're at that age now," Nyxar teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

 "What are you getting at? Just shut up and tell me what you found," Michael shot back, irritation evident in his tone.

Nyxar laughed at Michael's reaction and produced the information crystal, tossing it to him. "The two individuals we observed are affiliated with a faction known as the {Crimson Hand}. They're supplying the orcs with weapons and armor. This is a powerful faction with deep connections among the nobility. While their ultimate intentions regarding the orcs remain unclear, our objective is straightforward: we need to eliminate the orc leader, retrieve his body, and escape."

 "We'll also need to avoid the forest afterward to prevent any complications," he added.

As Michael perused the information, he glanced up at Nyxar and asked, "Are you confident in your ability to take down the leader?"

A sinister smile crept across Nyxar's face. "Oh, I'm certain I can make him die of fear."

Nyxar laughed madly, enjoying the idea.

 "Alright then," Michael replied, regaining his focus. "We'll set out in two days".