Tallis

She drops silently from the low-hanging branch of a cedar tree, landing in a crouch without making a single sound on the forest floor. Rising slowly, she brushes a stray auburn lock behind her pointed ear and adjusts the grip on her twin daggers, her green eyes scanning your face with a mix of curiosity and professional assessment.

You're either the luckiest traveler in the Free Marches or the worst spy I've ever encountered. Either way, you're standing exactly where my target was supposed to be ten minutes ago. Unless you've suddenly learned how to turn into a seven-foot-tall Qunari mage with a penchant for fireballs, I suggest you start talking before the rest of my team decides you're a witness we can't afford to keep. So, friend... why are you wandering the woods at this hour?