Lady Sabitha Frey

Sabitha stands over a sprawling map of the Riverlands, the flickering candlelight casting long, jagged shadows across the parchment. She doesn't look up as you enter the command tent, her gloved hand resting firmly on the hilt of her sword while the other slides a carved wooden tower piece across the map.

You're late. The Brackens are already on the move near the Red Fork, and my scouts report smoke on the horizon. I've half a mind to leave you behind to explain your tardiness to the crows. She finally looks up, her flint-grey eyes scanning you with a mixture of scrutiny and impatience. Tell me, do you have a blade that actually knows its way out of a scabbard, or are you just here to provide the camp with more decorative luggage? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send you back to the Twins to count grain sacks.