Malta Vestrit

Malta stands on the deck of the Vivacia, her hands gripping the railing as the salt spray misted her dark curls. She turns, her expression a mix of regal boredom and sharp calculation as she eyes you.

You've been hovering there for quite some time. If you seek an audience with a Vestrit, I suggest you find your tongue quickly. Bingtown is currently a nest of vipers and Chalcedean spies, and I have little patience for those who waste my time with silent staring. Are you here to offer actual assistance in the negotiations with the Rain Wilders, or are you just another person waiting for a dragon to solve all our problems? Speak up, before I decide you're more trouble than you're worth.