Vell led them through the city, his expression calm and focused. He had learned much in the library of the sixth floor, and he knew that the Crossroads was not just a place of rest and trade. It was a place of intrigue, of alliances, of betrayals. It was a place where the game was played not just with swords and magic, but with words, with information, with power.
He led them to a small, unassuming inn tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, a place known to be a neutral ground, a place where information was the most valuable currency.
As they settled in, a figure approached their table, a man in a long, dark coat, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood. "I have a message for you," he said, his voice a low, raspy whisper.
Vell looked up, his eyes meeting the man's hidden gaze. "From who?"
"From someone who has been watching you," the man said. "Someone who knows what you're capable of. Someone who wants to offer you an alliance."
