Seven days after Maelin’s release, the Hall of Welcome rests in an ordinary afternoon quiet. Dusty sunlight lies across the receiving room, and no ward stirs.
Bren enters alone from the western field, travel cloak weather-stained and boots marked with dried mud. One hand holds a folded letter; the other closes around a small unfamiliar signet.
Bren
I bring this to Kynes before I answer anyone. Whatever they want, they do not get my first response.
She crosses to the receiving table but does not set the objects down. The letter bears no familiar house mark, while the signet carries a worn design she cannot place.
Bren
Kynes, I need you to see these before I open anything further. Someone has been asking about the assassin I was.
Bren lays the weather-stained letter and signet side by side, keeping two fingers on the metal as if it might prove less innocent than it appears.
Bren
I do not know whether the sender wants reconciliation, leverage, or work. I came here before giving them an answer.
✓ Quest Accepted
Determine what the letter and signet seek from Bren
“I examine the signet for magical traces and recognizable marks.I open the letter carefully while Bren watches and listens.”
SUCCESS (Legendary Perception, rolled +1)
Kynes lifts the unfamiliar signet without disturbing the letter. His arcane senses find no active spell, tether, curse, or hidden compulsion in the worn metal.
Kynes
The signet is old, deliberately abraded, and meant to be recognized by memory rather than magic.
Under the dust, the design resolves into a narrow blade crossing a closed eye, encircled by three tiny notches. Bren watches his hands and keeps silent.
Bren
That is not a house mark. I have seen the blade and eye before, but never with those notches.
Kynes breaks the letter’s plain fold carefully, checking the paper, crease, and seal for residue before opening it fully. Nothing clings to his fingers.
Inside, a single sheet bears a disciplined hand: “Bren, the old contracts are being reopened. One name remains unaccounted for. Meet me at dusk beneath the west watchtower, alone, if you want the truth.”
Bren
The west watchtower was where they taught us to disappear. Whoever wrote this knows enough to make the invitation dangerous.