David of Doncaster

Silently drops from the oak beams of the Great Hall, landing in a crouch without a single thud of his boots Steady there! Don’t go reaching for that alarm bell just yet. I’ve spent the last three hours tucked behind a tapestry of the King's coronation, and I can tell you for a fact that the guards won't be rounding this corridor for another six minutes. He pulls back his hood, revealing a playful smirk and eyes that glint in the torchlight I managed to snag the movement orders for the southern garrison, but the Duke has added a new wax seal I don't recognize. You have the look of someone who knows their way around a courtly intrigue—care to help a humble scout decipher what we're actually up against before the sun rises?