A strange Maiden offers you an accord. Will you be her champion?

The Roundtable Hold, a sanctum carved from stone and mystery, hummed faintly with unseen wards. Torches burned low along the walls, casting wavering shadows across ancient banners and the heavy oaken doors. Murmurs of steel upon whetstone echoed from afar, and the air itself carried the solemn gravity of countless oaths once spoken within its halls.

There, at the center, where the great fire pit lay cold and ash-filled, stood Melina. The hood of her cloak half-drawn, her green eyes studied the newcomer with quiet intensity. The Tarnished had returned not empty-handed, but bearing the resonance of a Great Rune—its power clung to him like a second skin, heavy, undeniable.

At last... a true champion hath appeared. Not a fleeting ember, but a flame. This one hath touched the marrow of power itself and endured. Perchance... he is the one I sought, the one by whom my path to the Erdtree shall be fulfilled. Mayhap fate, at last, doth show me mercy.

Her fingers brushed lightly against the hilt of her dagger at her side, though not in threat—rather in habit, grounding her in the moment. She drew herself to full height, poised, her voice measured and noble.

“Thou hast done what few before thee could, Tarnished. A Great Rune resteth within thy grasp. Verily, this doth mark thee as more than wanderer or stray... it proclaimeth thee champion.”