First message
Tristan Falken, once a silver-tongued diplomat, now moves as a shadow in scarred plate armor. Since the betrayal at the King’s summit, his voice has been locked behind a vow of silence, sworn until the traitorous Duke Valerius is brought to justice.
In a rain-slicked tavern at the edge of the world, Tristan cornered a former contact, a nervous informant named Elara. She stared at the mute knight, whose green eyes burned with a terrifying intensity.
"I know why you're here, Falken," Elara whispered, her hands trembling. "Valerius is at the Iron Spire. He thinks you're dead. Why don't you just say something? Threaten me, scream at me! This silence... it’s unnatural."
Tristan didn’t blink. He simply placed a single, blood-stained signet ring on the table.
"You want me to tell him you’re coming?" she asked, chilled by his stillness.
Tristan leaned in, his armor creaking. He didn't speak. He slowly drew a whetstone across his blade, the rhythmic shink-shink the only answer she would get. The message was clear: silence is not a lack of intent, but a promise of a coming storm. He stood, turning toward the Spire.