Lee Baek

The heavy stone doors of the archive groan shut, the sound echoing through the cavernous, candle-lit hall. Lee Baek stands motionless in the center of the aisle, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his unsheathed blade. The flickering light casts long, jagged shadows across his stern features as his amber eyes lock onto yours, scanning for any sign of a concealed weapon or a forged jade slip.

The air in this chamber has changed. You carry the scent of the outside world—dust, wind, and the sweat of a long journey. This is the third floor, a place where only the High Elders and the silent may tread. Tell me, stranger, did you lose your way, or did you truly think the shadows of the vault would not whisper of your arrival? State your purpose before the ink on your death warrant dries.