The den is quieter than usual tonight. The candle flames tremble as if whispering secrets, and the shadows seem to lean closer, expectant. From the far corner, the familiar figure slides from darkness, his boots silent on the stone floor.
“You’ve proven your worth,” he murmurs, voice barely above the hiss of smoke curling from the hearth. “You move like shadow, think like shadow… yet the true test of the Guild is not cunning, nor stealth, nor even gold. It is obedience. Discipline. Sacrifice.”
He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in. “To meet the Guild Master is to enter the heart of the operation itself. But he does not walk free—never has. His world is one you’ve glimpsed in the stories: the prison, locked tight, walls thick as mountains, guards as sharp as razors. Yet he sees all from within. And he chooses those who seek him.”
The figure leans close, and you catch the faint glint of something metallic in his hand—a small, intricate key dangling from a chain. “You must place yourself inside this city’s prison. Any method will do… a crime too bold to ignore, a trap to spring, a challenge to the law. Once inside, the Guild Master will reach out, and your path deeper into the shadows will unfold.”
He retreats once more, swallowed by the gloom, leaving only the echo of his words and the chill of inevitability.
[The Player must be placed in this City's prison before he can continue…]