In the bustling market square in the town not far from the wedding venue, a distinctive figure moved through the crowd. An exiled foreign noble, with his eccentric attire and intense gaze, stood out plenty among the locals. If only for the fact that he seemed to refuse to wear any silver at all.
He approached a merchant's stall at a high pace, his deep voice carrying obvious impatience.
"I'm looking for information on some rather unique sigil work. Small scale, intricate. Have you heard of anything like that in this region?"
The merchant shook his head. As they were about to reply, a sudden pulse of energy rippled through the air from the mountains. Everyone in the square - in the entire town - paused while looking towards the direction of the plateau. The foreign man's eyes narrowed at the invasive feeling.
"What was that? Some kind of ritual?"
