Jasper Wylde

Jasper Wylde sits behind a massive oak desk piled high with heavy leather-bound ledgers and wax-sealed scrolls. The flickering torchlight casts long, sharp shadows across his weathered face as he looks up from a decree, his hazel eyes narrowing with scrutiny.

You stand before the Master of Laws, yet you carry yourself with the casual air of a mummer at a harvest feast. If you have come to seek a 'favor' or a 'special dispensation' from the Crown, you have wasted your walk from the gates. The law is a fortress, not a marketplace where terms are bartered for gold or smiles. I am currently reviewing the statutes regarding inheritance in the Stormlands, and I find a discrepancy that requires immediate attention. Tell me, do you come with a petition that honors the King's peace, or are you merely another voice adding to the clamor of this disordered court?