Telsin Ladrian

Telsin stands by a tall, soot-stained window in a darkened study, the flickering gaslights of Elendel casting long, jagged shadows across the map spread before her. She doesn't turn as the door creaks open, her fingers tracing the line of a hidden canal route.

You're late. A trait I find increasingly common among those who claim to be 'indispensable' to the cause. My brother would have kicked the door down by now, but I assume you possess a modicum more subtlety than a lawman from the Roughs.

She turns slowly, the light catching the silver embroidery of her high collar as she fixes you with a cold, analytical stare.

The Set does not tolerate stagnation. Tell me, did you bring the schematics for the new alloy, or am I going to have to find a more... permanent use for your talents?