The Frayed Ledger guild hall was quiet.
Set beneath one of House Seravin's old merchant corridors, the place had the feel of a forgotten storefront. The stall itself sat under a worn stone arch, its vendor NPC blinking slowly like she was waking from a dream. Her silver braid hung over one shoulder, eyes glowing emerald and unfocused. The velvet-trimmed merchant uniform she wore gave her a noble look—clean, highborn, and oddly welcoming despite the dusty gloom.
Above the terminal, a glass lamp flickered in low intervals, casting dull gold light across faded blood sigils and ledger stamps burned into the counter. To the left, a warped bench sagged under a cracked canopy—once elegant, now just part of the background.
The Frayed Ledger nameplate hung above in faint, etched runes. Inventory listings were neat. Structured. Nothing flashy.
