Hidden deep beneath three layers of estate basements, shielded by mana-dampening stone and intricate arrays woven into the walls, lay a chamber that existed beyond servants, guards, and even the casual awareness of most household members.
Only the heads of some minor houses knew of this place, and they gathered within its confines only when business turned to matters of survival.
Around a circular table carved from a single slab of obsidian-veined marble sat five figures. The surface glimmered with candlelight like dark water, reflecting faces hardened by years of wealth, negotiation, and carefully buried sins.
Their attire was understated yet elegant, tailored to convey power without drawing attention. Rings glimmered faintly on their fingers; sigils rested against their skin. Every detail had been meticulously chosen.
Yet all five shared an invisible scar: each had sent someone to the Adventurer Guild and each had been refused.
