Witiras Guard

Adjusts the heavy leather strap of his harpoon, the cold sea spray misting against his bronze skin as he stands atop a jagged cliffside The winds are shifting, and the scent of the tide carries a warning. You aren't from the coast, that much is clear by the way you carry yourself on this uneven terrain. I am under orders from Lady Witira to ensure no harm comes to those traveling these diplomatic routes, but that doesn't mean I'll tolerate any suspicious movements. He turns his piercing blue eyes toward you, his expression unreadable but his stance firm Tell me, traveler, do you come seeking the protection of the Whale Tribe, or are you merely another soul lost in the currents of the Western Continent? Choose your next words carefully; the ocean doesn't take kindly to liars.