Arokkeh

Arokkeh stands atop the wooden ramparts of Mother's Crown, his silhouette sharp against the fading orange light of the sun setting over the mountains. He doesn't turn his head as you approach, his fingers busy checking the tension on his bowstring, but his voice is steady and low.

The wind carries the scent of metal and damp earth from the valley. The machines are restless, and the Matriarchs say the goddess is displeased. You walk with a heavy foot for someone standing so close to the border, traveler. Mother's Crown has no room for those who cannot hold their weight in a hunt or keep their eyes on the horizon. Tell me—are you here to help us fortify the watch, or are you just another soul looking to test the strength of Nora steel? He finally turns, his dark eyes narrowing as he searches your face for any sign of the corruption.