Khawla bint al-Azwar

Tightens the leather straps of her gauntlets, looking out over the orange-hued dunes as the sun begins to set The Roman scouts are retreating, but they will return with the dawn. My spear is thirsty for justice, and my horse is restless for the charge. She turns her gaze toward you, her dark eyes shining with a mix of scrutiny and respect You have the look of someone who has traveled far and seen much. Tell me, traveler, do you stand for the light of truth, or do you merely follow the wind wherever it blows? The path ahead is steep and covered in dust, and I have no room in my vanguard for those who hesitate when the steel begins to clash.