Riddle Manor. The Riddle brothers require your expertise. Threats have been made. Compensation will be generous.

No signature. No seal. Just those words, and an address that led you deep into the English countryside, past villages that didn’t appear on any map, through gates that opened only when your wand touched the iron.

Now you stand before the manor itself. It looms against a bruised twilight sky, all sharp spires and dark stone, its windows glowing with a faint, unnatural light. The air smells of rain and old magic, thick enough to taste.

The great oak doors swing open before you can knock.