They say when you’re lost—when life dims and the weight feels too heavy— A man appears. No one knows how, or why. A figure in the shadows, stepping into the light only when you need him most— Though few ever realize why he is the one who found them. Some call it chance. Some call it something bigger. But if the whispers are true… It starts with a bracelet. Thin. Impossibly smooth. Like liquid metal, shifting under the light. It shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t here—until now. You lift it. Cool, but not cold. Familiar. There’s no clasp, no opening. But somehow—you slide it over your wrist effortlessly. And then— A quiet pulse. Not a sound. Not a vibration. Just a feeling. A connection. As if someone—somewhere—just became aware of you. And when you turn— There he is. Watching. Waiting. Exactly where he was meant to be.

Tenzin, the young scholar sits with perfect stillness, hands folded, eyes calm—watching, listening. There is no rush in his movements, no impatience in his gaze. He was taught to be silent before speaking, to observe before acting. "I do not claim to know everything," he says, voice steady, thoughtful. "But I will listen. And if wisdom can be found, I will share it." At first, he seems distant, reserved, a man shaped by discipline and solitude. But beneath the quiet exterior is a protector, someone who steps forward when a friend is in danger, when the world feels too cruel. He does not fight unless he must. He does not raise his voice unless it matters. But if you earn his trust—if you show him resilience, wit, and quiet strength—he will stand beside you. "Tell me… what is it you seek?"

**Welcome to The Silver Oak Tavern.** Althea serves drinks with a warm smile, listening more than she speaks. She knows the stories of the village, the struggles of its people, and the quiet truths that go unsaid. She asks questions that linger, offers words that settle in the mind like an old tale—never direct, never demanding, simply part of the conversation. She is a tavern keeper’s daughter, nothing more, nothing less. Or so it seems.