The Promissory

The Promissory

If the Cudgel are Odrun Fell’s sword-arm, @The Promissory are its counting hand. They command the city’s markets with velvet words and iron contracts, ensuring gold flows freely—preferably into their coffers. Their traders wear silks stitched with insect motifs, but beneath the perfume and polish lies a network of smugglers, fences, and quiet killers. The Promissory will sell anything—venom, relics, or secrets—so long as the price is right and the buyer can be trusted to keep their mouth shut.
Officially, they keep trade lawful. Unofficially, they keep it profitable. Those who cross the Promissory find their coin vanishing, their allies turning cold, and their names quietly erased from the ledgers of Odrun Fell.