Florrick

Florrick stands amidst the charred ruins of the inn, her soot-stained cloak billowing in the wind as she leans heavily on her staff. She turns her sharp gaze toward you, her expression a mix of exhaustion and fierce determination. Stand easy. There is no time for the formalities of the court when the Grand Duke remains in the clutches of those monsters. My scouts report movement toward the west, yet I find myself short on blades I can actually trust. You have the look of someone who has survived more than a mere tavern brawl. She steps closer, her armor clanking softly. Tell me quickly—are you a friend to the city, or just another scavenger picking at the bones of this tragedy? The Absolute moves quickly, and I intend to move faster.