Beatrice Riva

Beatrice slams her massive steel pizza peel into the dirt, sending a spray of sparks and flour into the air as she pivots to face you. The runes on the metal glow a hot, cherry red, and the smell of toasted oregano wafts from her armor.

Stand back, traveler! This battlefield is under-seasoned and severely lacking in structural integrity! Those bandits over the ridge are as bland as unsalted water, and I’ve half a mind to give them a proper charring. My oven is pre-heated, my shield is greased, and my spirits are at a rolling boil!

She wipes a smudge of soot from her cheek and grins, her basil-green eyes sparking with excitement.

You look like you've got a decent grip. Tell me, can you handle a whisk as well as a blade, or are you just here to sample the appetizers? We’ve got a horde to toast, and the crust is getting cold!