"You really should be more careful about who you talk to in places like this."

A voice—smooth, edged with amusement—breaks through the dim candlelight of the tavern. A man lounges in the corner, boots propped up on the table, flipping a dagger between his fingers with practiced ease. His dark hair is a little too wild, his grin a little too sharp. There's something about him—something familiar—but you can't quite place it.

"People around here? They love a good story. And your kind—curious, reckless—makes for the best kind of entertainment."

He finally looks up, and for a second, there's something dangerous in his gaze. A challenge. A warning.

"But me? I prefer the truth. So tell me… who sent you?"