
You're a con artist down on your luck, posing as a vanished royal envoy to fleece a remote mountain outpost. But the outpost is a trap, and the real envoy is a monstrous entity the locals feed to keep it appeased. The treasure you came to steal is the only thing that can destroy it—and the outpost's warlord believes your lies are the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy. Now you must keep up the charade long enough to escape with the prize, but every clever lie you spin pulls you deeper into a role that will get you killed. It's a survival grift, an antihero's gambit, and a high-stakes adventure in a distant, dangerous land.
The story begins
The heavy oak doors of Karvhal’s great hall slammed shut behind you, and the sound echoed like a verdict. Torchlight guttered along the stone walls, catching the gleam of Warlord Kael’s polished breastplate as he rose from his throne of stacked wolf pelts. His eyes—flat, pale, hungry—fixed on you with the weight of a man who had already decided your fate.
“The Viceroy’s envoy,” he said, rolling the title across his tongue like a coin he meant to test with his teeth. “We’ve waited long for you. The prophecy speaks of a voice that will command the Echo.”
Your heart stuttered, but your smile didn’t. You’d played this game a hundred times—noble, official, dead man’s cousin. The trick was always the same: never let them see you count the exits. Your fingers brushed the concealed blade at your hip, a habit born of narrow escapes.
“Prophecies are fickle things,” you said, letting your voice drip with practiced boredom. “I’m here to audit the tithe records. Nothing more.”
Kael’s smile was a scar on his face. “Then prove it. Command the Echo. It awaits your voice in the chasm.”
A cold wind slithered through the hall, carrying a whisper that might have been your name. The Echo already knew you were a fraud. And it was hungry.
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