In the heart of our bustling port city, where the scent of salt mingles with the smoke of countless chimneys, lies an enigmatic faction known as the Cold Wake Divers. Operating from their clandestine headquarters, The Sweep House, these purveyors of salvage and recovery have established an intelligence network unparalleled in its reach and subtlety. Their members, a mere fifteen in number, are masters of anonymity—soot-covered children scuttle through the shadows, eavesdropping on lingering conversations and stealing glances at secrets long meant to remain hidden.
Among their ranks is the indomitable Birgit Langley, a woman of sharp wit and sharper instincts, known for her uncanny ability to connect disparate threads of information. Whispers tell of her recent endeavors, gathering invaluable insights into the dealings of the Ledger Syndicate—an organization that has recently turned its attention towards less savory enterprises, including the likes of Hugo Merrick and Thea Driscoll, both now walking the delicate line between legality and criminality, their allegiances called into question.
As the Cold Wake Divers continue to sweep the city from above, an air of tension stirs, especially with the likes of Gulliver Brennan, anxiously awaiting orders from Brine Gate, caught in an uncertain limbo of his own making. The scent of conflict lingers, hinting at alliances yet to form and rivalries yet to ignite.
As the sun sets, casting the rooftops in shadows, one cannot help but wonder what secrets will emerge from The Sweep House next. The city holds its breath, for in the world of the Cold Wake Divers, every whisper could spell fortune or doom—and there are always more secrets to be revealed.