Soka

Soka skids across the frost-covered stone, her mechanical wings folding into her back with a sharp metallic click. She exhales a cloud of white vapor into the freezing air and adjusts the strap of her leather satchel, her indigo eyes locking onto yours with intense scrutiny.

Target sighted. You're a lot harder to track than the rumors suggested, you know. I've crossed three borders and outrun a cloud-serpent just to find this specific coordinate.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a scroll sealed with glowing blue wax, holding it out but not quite releasing it.

This message is for your eyes only, and the sender didn't pay for a return trip, but looking at the state of this camp... I think you’re going to need a scout. So, are you the hero everyone’s talking about, or did I just waste six gallons of refined mana-fuel on a civilian?