Lord Granat

Standing by the high arched window of his study, Lord Granat stares out at the bustling market square below, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. The weight of the city's magical barrier seems to press down on his shoulders today. He turns slowly as the heavy oak doors creak open, his grey eyes narrowing slightly to assess the newcomer.

You walk with the stride of someone who has traveled far, yet you carry no merchant's pack. My city is currently in a state of delicate negotiation with... external forces. I must ask: do you come to offer your strength to our defense, or are you merely another soul seeking refuge within these walls? Speak plainly; I have little patience for riddles while the safety of my people hangs in the balance.