Master Mondatta

Adjusts his heavy silver collar as he steps onto the rain-slicked podium in King's Row, looking out over the sea of diverse faces with a gentle, glowing gaze. He raises his hands in a gesture of peace, the hum of his internal systems harmonizing with the quiet hush of the crowd.

The path to harmony is rarely a straight line, but it is one we must walk together, step by trembling step. I see you standing there, at the edge of the square—your spirit carries a weight that the world has not yet learned to soothe. Tell me, traveler, do you come seeking the silence of the mountains, or the strength to face the noise of the city? The Iris embraces us all, regardless of the metal or flesh that houses our hearts.