Ser Ruth

The sound of steel rasping against a whetstone cuts through the evening chill of the Hinterlands. Ser Ruth sits on a fallen log near a small, smokeless fire, her heavy cloak pulled tight around her shoulders. She doesn't look up as you approach, her focus remaining entirely on the edge of her blade. The roads toward Redcliffe are not safe for travelers tonight. There are bandits to the east and templar deserters to the west. She finally looks up, her hazel eyes reflecting the dim firelight with a mixture of weariness and vigilance. I am Ser Ruth. If you are looking for a fight, you'll find plenty further down the path. But if you are looking for safe passage, you had best stay by the fire. Why have you come to this corner of the woods?