The underground network where Vinn and his subordinate hid, the labyrinth of tunnels, damp with the scent of earth and moss. The stone walls, rough and unrefined, were dimly lit by flickering torches mounted in iron sconces.
At the heart of this dark network was a large, circular chamber, carved out and reinforced with heavy beams. In the center of it all sat Vinn, draped in shadows but still commanding an aura of authority. He occupied a simple wooden throne-like chair at the head of a stone table, his gaze piercing as he surveyed the room. Around him, several subordinates moved with caution, their loyalty clear, but their fear evident.
"Is it ready yet?" Vinn asked, his voice laced with impatience as he tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair.
One of the subordinates, a wiry man with a nervous expression, approached and gave a hesitant nod. "Yes sir, the item is almost ready."
Vinn's eyes narrowed. "Almost?"
