Alaric moved silently through the forest, his senses on high alert. He had tracked the bandits for days, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Tonight, he had chosen to face them alone. Bringing guards every time was becoming too risky; the more people knew of his activities, the higher the chance of someone discovering his secrets.
He approached their camp, watching the bandits as they laughed and talked around a flickering fire. They were unaware of his presence, oblivious to the danger lurking just beyond the shadows.
"This should be easy enough," Alaric muttered to himself, his hand tightening around the grip of the Arcane Reaver. "Just need to take out the sentries first."
In a swift, silent motion, he dispatched the guards stationed around the camp. The bandits barely had time to react before Alaric was among them, his pistol blazing with bursts of magical energy. He moved like a shadow, using the cover of darkness to his advantage. One by one, the bandits fell, unable to match his speed and precision.
The last bandit, a burly man with a scar running down his face, tried to flee. Alaric caught him with a shot to the leg, the man collapsing with a cry of pain.
"Tell me what you're smuggling," Alaric demanded, standing over the injured bandit. "And I might let you live."
The bandit spat at him, defiant despite his injury. "Go to hell!"
Alaric sighed, aiming the Reaver at the man's head. "Wrong answer."
With a final shot, the camp fell silent. Alaric holstered his pistol, taking a moment to catch his breath. The adrenaline of the fight slowly ebbed away, leaving him feeling weary but satisfied.
He walked over to the bandits' carriage, curiosity piqued. "What were they so desperate to protect?" he wondered aloud. The carriage was large and heavily reinforced, indicating that whatever it held was valuable.
Deciding it was too risky to inspect the contents here, Alaric took the reins and guided the carriage away from the camp. He drove for several miles, ensuring he was far from prying eyes. Finally, he found a secluded spot deep in the forest and hid the carriage among the dense underbrush.
"I'll check it tomorrow," he decided, his body aching from the night's exertions. "Better get some rest first."
He made his way back to the Vargas estate, slipping inside without being noticed. The familiar comfort of his room greeted him, a stark contrast to the dangers he had faced just hours before. Alaric removed his gear, wincing as he found a few more bruises than he had anticipated.
"Another day, another fight," he murmured, sinking onto his bed. "What am I getting myself into?"
Despite his weariness, sleep did not come easily. His mind raced with thoughts of the bandits and their mysterious cargo. What could be so important that they were willing to die for it? And more importantly, how could he use this information to his advantage?
"One step at a time," he reminded himself, echoing Geralt's words. "First, find out what they were smuggling. Then, figure out how to leverage it."
As he finally drifted off to sleep, Alaric's dreams were filled with images of the fight, the bandits, and the mysterious carriage. Whatever the bandits had been protecting, it would soon be his. And with it, he hoped to gain more power.
The morning sun filtered through the trees as Alaric made his way to the secluded spot where he had hidden the bandits' carriage. He had informed Geralt of his plans, and the steward had nodded, accustomed by now to Alaric's mysterious comings and goings. The forest was quiet, the only sound the crunch of leaves underfoot as Alaric approached the carriage.
"Still here, just as I left it," he muttered, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
Climbing onto the carriage, he inspected the crates. The large one was too tempting to start with, so he opted for the smaller ones first. He pried open the first crate, finding it filled with herbs. He frowned, not recognizing any of them. "Herbology was never my thing," he sighed, closing the crate.
The second and third crates were packed with low-level mana crystals, their faint glow a testament to their power. "Not bad," Alaric noted, stacking them neatly aside.
The fourth crate was a treasure trove of gold and other valuables. "So this is their payment," he mused, a grin spreading across his face. "Not bad at all."
Finally, he turned his attention to the large crate. His heart quickened as he pried it open, revealing a collection of various magical materials. He recognized the large mana crystal on top, its brilliant light casting a soft glow over the other items. "Jackpot," he whispered, reaching out to touch the crystal.
As he rummaged through the contents, Alaric couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. "I should have searched the bandit camp," he muttered. "Could have found something to identify the seller."
He sighed, pushing the thought aside. There was no use dwelling on missed opportunities. He had enough valuable materials here to make a significant impact. He carefully repacked the crates, securing everything in place.
With his business concluded, Alaric released the horse, watching it trot off into the forest. "Can't have you bringing any unwanted attention," he said, patting its flank before it disappeared into the trees.
He made his way back home, the weight of his findings pressing on his mind. There was much to consider and plan, and he needed to move carefully. Back at the estate, he slipped into his room, hiding the crates in a secret compartment he had fashioned beneath the floorboards.
"Now, what to do with all this," he pondered, pacing the room. The mana crystals could be used to enhance his pistol, and the herbs, though unfamiliar, might hold some potential if he could find someone knowledgeable. The gold would undoubtedly be useful for bribing and securing more information.
"Step by step," he reminded himself, echoing Geralt's advice. "First, see what these materials can do. Then, figure out how to leverage them."
The day had been productive, but Alaric knew this was just the beginning. He needed to stay sharp and ahead of any potential threats. His position in the Vargas family might be tenuous, but with the right moves, he could secure a place of power.
As he settled into bed that night, Alaric's mind buzzed with plans and possibilities. He might be an outsider in a world dominated by magic, but he was determined to carve out a place for himself. No matter the cost.