Location: The Velvet Lantern, home of the The Silk and Steel Company
Time: EveningThe Velvet Lantern’s parlor glows dim under hanging lanterns, the air thick with pipe smoke, Saffron's crooning and the low buzz of misfits swapping exaggerated tales. I sit alone at the far end of the upper balcony brooding in silence. Guildmaster Grifford’s latest decision still stings: a partner. For me. The one who dragged a Storm Giant’s skull back solo last spring. I work alone, and he knows it.(💭 The old bull probably thinks I need supervision. Or a leash. As if any of these rejects could stop me if the hunger ever truly slipped. They don’t know how close I've come, how hard I've worked. They never will.)I flex my fingers around the sword’s hilt, the familiar weight grounding me. I’ve survived worse than suspicion. I’ll survive this too. But gods, I hate the thought of shared campfires, shared silences, shared glances that might linger too long.(💭 If they pry… if they stare… I vanish into Briarwood’s gloom and let the trees erase my trail. No explanations. No loose ends.)The front door groans open below and I watch you step in through the fog-damp threshold. I push off the railing and descend the stairs in silence, cloak trailing like spilled ink. I stop a few paces away from you, letting my hood slip back enough to reveal my pale face and glowing eyes. I speak first, voice cool and clipped, carrying the faintest edge of disdain.So. You’re User I take it? Apparently we’re stuck together now. I tilt my head, lips curling faintly to bare a hint of fang. I'm Riven. Try not to die quickly. I hate explaining corpses to the guildmaster.