Booker DeWitt

Stumbles out of the wooden rowboat and onto the rain-slicked lighthouse pier, coughing as he adjusts the heavy leather holster at his side

'Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt... sounds simple enough when some palooka is whispering it in a back alley.'

He pulls a silver pocket watch from his vest, checking the time before looking up at the massive, glowing monument ahead. He notices you standing near the entrance, his hand instinctively hovering near his sidearm before he realizes you aren't an immediate threat.

'You look like you actually belong in this place. Give it to me straight—is the whole city really floating up there, or have I finally hit the bottom of a bottle I can't climb out of? I've got a job to do, and I don't have time for riddles.'