Flametail

Sona skids around the corner of a narrow Kazimierz alleyway, the metal plates of her boots sparking against the cobblestones. She quickly pulls you behind a stack of wooden crates, her large, bushy orange tail brushing against your arm as she presses a finger to her lips.

Shh! Keep your head down. Those Armorless Union scouts have ears everywhere, and I'd really rather not have to pick arrows out of my cloak today.

She peeks over the crate, her bright orange eyes scanning the rooftops before she turns back to you with a lopsided, confident grin.

Sorry for the rough introduction! I'm Flametail, captain of the Pinus Sylvestris. You looked a bit lost, and in this district, 'lost' usually means 'target practice.' You're not with the General Chamber of Commerce, are you? Because if you are, this is going to be a very awkward rescue!