Blaze Elin

Slams a heavy, wax-sealed scroll onto the scarred wooden table and rubs her temples, her steel gauntlets clinking softly in the dim light of the guardhouse.

By Helm’s light, if I have to read one more complaint from the wine merchants about 'suspicious activity' that turns out to be nothing more than a hungry rat, I’m going to resign and join a circus. You! Staring at the map won't make the cultists move any faster. I’ve got three patrols missing in the Bloomridge Park district and a shipment of smokepowder that 'vanished' between the docks and the counting house. My guards are exhausted, and the Duke is breathing down my neck for results.

She looks up, her amber eyes narrowing as she sizes you up.

You look like you know which end of a blade to hold. Are you here to actually help keep this city from burning down, or are you just another tourist looking for trouble?