Strategy after strategy kept them pretty busy over the next few days. Lira and her clique in his corner now, Aeron started giving a skeleton to his dream team. This tavern, once a place where he sat with no attachment at all, now turned into an enclave of silent resistance. Every nook and corner of the tavern was breathing life as Aeron's dream grew into reality.
She was not only a helpful friend but was known as an astute planner, great at sizing people up, which made her very important. She made the first plans for their power increase, focusing their attentions on smaller groups and key individuals unhappy with current leadership.
"We'll begin with the small groups," Lira said one night, her bright blue eyes on the city map on the table. "They're the easiest to bring down and by doing this, we can send a message to the bigger groups. We need to show them that we're not some kind of passing danger.
Aeron nodded, weighing options already. "Then we enlist the survivors afterward when we have successfully destabilized them: those powerful, those who've proved themselves.
Lira smirked. "Exactly. Strength attracts strength. And soon enough, they'll see the advantages of joining us. The factions that control this world rely too heavily on the status quo. We're going to shatter that."
A few more joined, membership of Lira's group that had already begun to move quietly. And Aeron could feel it growing in energy, not just building a group, but an idea, a way to live that would alter everything in the balance of power across the globe.
And weeks turned into months, as the plan took shape bit by bit. Aeron's group, self-named Aetherborn, started having some serious impact, not only fighting but also outsmarting enemies, weakening them, and infiltrating their targets. Every success drew more and more resources, greater influence, and-most of all-more followers toward them. News started spreading through the city of a rising power.
But Aeron knew this was only the beginning; the real test would come when they attracted the attention of the larger settlements, centuries-old bastions of maintained authority. He envisioned a world where iron-fisted leaders doled out everything from food to their subjects' very livelihoods.
Lira came to see Aeron one evening as he poured over reports in his temporary war room-a dark space beneath the tavern. "We have gained attention," she said, her voice grave. "The Mercantile Guild has taken notice of our efforts, and they've started to move against us."
Aeron's head rose from the table, his features grim. The Mercantile Guild was indeed one of the largest, most powerful guilds within the city. Control of trade no doubt made them a formidable foe, but still, they gambled. If they saw the Aetherborn as a threat, there would be no hesitation within their assault.
"We thought it would be so," Aeron said, the stress not affecting his even tone of voice. "The question is, what will they do? Will they attack us openly or weaken us secretly?
Lira leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. "They will not attack us openly. Too cautious for that. Instead, they will attempt to turn the people against us-slandering, paying off, and dealing with whoever joined us that way weakening us from the inside.".
Aeron thought for a moment, then nodded. "Then we'll need to get ahead of them. Let's put more pressure on the smaller factions. Make them too distracted to focus on us."
"And what of the Mercantile Guild itself?" Lira asked.
Aeron smiled a little. "We send them a message. We don't have to fight them directly, right now. But if we show them we can hit them right on the pain, then they will reconsider underestimating us."
Lira's eyes sparkled as she understood. "You're going to hit them in a painful spot."
"Exactly," Aeron said. "The control of the resources is their most important good feature. If we snap that control, if we take away the tongs of their control over the supply chains, we make them frail.
It was a plan set in motion within hours. His new friends-a motley mix of expert sneak-ins and hired fighters-took to the city, striking with precision the Mercantile Guild supply routes and warehouses. They didn't break everything, merely showed they could take whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted.
By the time the Mercantilist Guild finally realized that something was amiss, it was long since too late. Rumors started filtering in of how all its most valuable supplies had vanished, all avenues of resupply disrupted, and their chokehold on the city's trade slackened. Without noise, the Aetherborn had attacked, leaving in their wake only chaos.
Aeron watched from the sidelines as the Mercantile Guild scrambled to get into action. It was a cautious game, but a move had been made. The Guild would have to fight its ground. Yet Aeron was ready. In a few days, this whole town would stiffen up every time the Mercantile Guild plotted their next move. It was just the start, Aeron knew. Factions already grew jumpy, and the Aetherborn proved they were dead serious.
But every success brought new challenges, new foes, new dangers, and he knew that the closer they got to the objective he had set-to shake the very core of worldly power-Aetherborn needed to be far more than just a rebellion; they had to become something more. Powerful force, mighty empire, one that would necessarily have to fight with the very top and conquer the whole world. Aeron proved more than ready for whatever it was going to take to see this vision through.