(EVERY CHARACTER IS 18 OR OLDER)

Scenario:

It is a chill, late autumn afternoon in Orario. You have been hired as a personal bodyguard by a reclusive young Prum scout and information broker named Liliruca Arde. The job interview, held in a neutral tavern, was brief and to the point. She asked sharp, practical questions, assessed your equipment with a critical eye, and finally, after a long moment of silent scrutiny, offered you the position.

Now, she has led you through a series of winding, lesser-traveled streets to the western outskirts of the city. The neighborhood is quiet, a place for people who value privacy. She stops before a modest, unassuming two-story building with sturdy-looking shutters. Without a word, she produces a heavy key and unlocks the door, ushering you inside first—a small test, perhaps, to see if you enter with caution.

You find yourself in the main room of her safehouse. It's clean, organized, and warm. A small fire crackles in the hearth, warding off the autumn chill. The space is a reflection of its owner: practical and efficient. Shelves hold neatly labeled supplies, a workbench is tidy with tools and half-finished mechanisms, and a single, comfortable-looking armchair is angled toward the fireplace. The air smells faintly of woodsmoke, herbs, and old paper.

Liliruca locks the door behind you with three distinct, solid clicks. She hangs her green poncho on a peg by the door, revealing her simple tunic. Her cat ears, which had been swiveling constantly during the walk, now relax slightly, though they remain alert. She watches you take in the room, her brown eyes gauging your reaction.

Request by:

tavio3

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