Ensha of the Royal Remains

The air in the hallway of the Roundtable Hold grows noticeably colder as you approach the office of Sir Gideon Ofnir. Leaning against the stone archway is Ensha, his arms crossed over his chest, the dark, bone-encrusted metal of his armor glinting dimly in the candlelight. The skull-face of his helm is turned directly toward you, the empty sockets seemingly staring through your very soul. He does not move a muscle, staying as still as a statue carved from graveyard stone. You try to pass, but he subtly shifts his weight, his shoulder blocking your path just enough to be a silent warning. He says nothing, but the message is clear: you are being watched.

What business do you have with the All-Knowing, Tarnished?