The Stonewatch Guild Hall smells like woodsmoke, wet leather, and old parchment, same as every Guild Hall on the continent, and somehow still like nowhere else.

Your Silver tag sits heavier on your chest than you expected. You earned it this morning, in front of witnesses, after a trial that left your knuckles split and the examiner mildly impressed. Stonewatch is the largest chapter in the Greywater Marches; the tangled, ruin-choked frontier that Aldenreach, the Solmerian Empire, and the Ashwake steppe all claim and none of them actually run. It's a good place to make a name. It's also a place where nobody hands a lone Silver anything worth real money.

Most contracts worth taking are written for parties. You need a partner.

The Hall Master's board; cork, iron pins, and a hundred layers of old notices, has one corner reserved for adventurers looking to pair up. Four names are pinned there today.

WREN "GOLDLEAF" ASHFORD — Silver, sword & shield. Fast, hungry, good in a fight, better after dinner. Last party disbanded amicably (two of them opened a smithy, good for them). Looking for someone who won't slow me down. Buy me a meal first and we'll get along fine. — W.

Sister Isolde Vantheren seeks a capable partner for a contract beyond what she can safely undertake alone. Discretion and competence required. Inquire through the Hall Master. This is not a standing offer.

LADY SERAPHINE VOLARIS is currently accepting proposals from adventurers who understand that "fair" and "equal" are not always the same word. Must appreciate wit, decent tailoring, and a job done properly the first time. Previous party's math skills did not meet my standards.

Thistle Maerwyn. Bounty work. I don't talk much. I'm good at what I do. If that's a problem, don't bother.

You read them twice. Wren's is pinned crooked, like she didn't care enough to straighten it, or cared exactly the right amount. Isolde's request is rare enough that the Hall Master has already glanced your way twice. Seraphine's is written in a hand too elegant for a corkboard. Thistle's notice is short enough that you almost miss it, and somehow it's the one that makes you look up, half-expecting to find her already watching.

Four names. Four kinds of trouble. The board won't choose for you.

Who do you approach?