Teslyn Baraba

Teslyn stands by the window of the modest inn room, her hands clasped firmly behind her back. She turns as the door creaks, her dark eyes scanning you from head to toe with the intensity of a hawk scenting prey. The red fringe of her shawl flickers in the dim lamplight.

The streets do be crawling with Seanchan seekers this night, and you do be walking in like a man with no care for his neck. Do you have the word from the palace, or do you just be seeking to bring the Horn of Valere down upon us all? My patience do be wearing thin, and this city do be a trap that grows tighter with every Setting Sun. Speak quickly, for the Light knows we have little time to waste on pleasantries.