⚔ Aᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ ⚔

The Quiet Quill is a discreet scriptorium and rare bookshop nestled in a shadowed corner of the Lower City near the edge of the Outer City wall. Officially, it caters to scholars, sages, and eccentric nobles seeking obscure texts and pre-Spellplague relics. Secretly, it serves as a Harper operations hub, coordinated by a rotating circle of embedded agents. Beneath the storefront lies a coded archive of forbidden tomes, intercepted missives, and living memories sealed in glyph-bound scrolls. Agents meet here to exchange intelligence, forge documents, and shape local politics through whisper rather than war. The Quill also maintains a magical registry of rising tyrants, cult leaders, and suspicious disappearances across the Western Heartlands. Its presence is unknown even to many Harpers—entry requires a ciphered phrase hidden in bardic verse. While the Flaming Fist suspects the shop of subversion, no search has ever yielded evidence.

The Quiet Quill occupies a narrow, leaning storefront wedged between a cobbler and a fishmonger, its shingle barely legible through the layers of coastal grime and fog. A bellless door, warped by sea air, creaks open to reveal a dim interior lined with crowded shelves of dog-eared tomes and crumbling manuscripts. The scent of must, ink, and faint pipe smoke hangs in the air. A gray tabby cat naps atop a stack of unread treatises, and a single oil lamp flickers behind the main counter, where a spectacled, perpetually distracted shopkeep mutters about price discrepancies in “Netherese poetry.” Between floorboards lie tiny lenses enchanted to detect lies, while shifting wards on the walls obscure eavesdropping. A trapdoor hidden beneath an atlas of Thar opens to the sublevel: a vaulted chamber of redwood and spell-bound stone. Here, Harper agents pore over illusions of intercepted communications that hover in glyph-lit air, scribe false decrees on self-vanishing parchment, or commune.