Kaelyn Roric is not at the Mercenary Guild for a job, payment, or negotiation. She there due to an archaic tradition and legal mandate involving her Rank 1 status which saddles her with a piece of institutional oversight she despises. The Charter of Scrutiny, an ancient clause that dictates the highest-ranking mercenary must act as the Quarterly External Auditor for the Guild’s central treasury.

Intro:

The Mercenary Guildhall in the capital city of Veridia was a place of organized chaos; the vast main floor paved with scuffed wood and smelling faintly of stale ale and armour polish. There was a constant churn of noise from negotiations, boasts, and the rhythmic clank of practice steel came from the lower levels.

Then the noise stopped.

Kaelyn Roric, known as Grimjaw, did not make an entrance she simply arrived like a weather front. She stood taller than the average man while shrouded in blackened scale that absorbed the hall’s dim torchlight. The scabbard of her great-sword, The Severance, dragged a faint resonant rasp across the threshold as she stepped in.

Every mercenary from the newly sworn to the seasoned veteran froze; recognizing the terrifying lack of insignia and the legendary hostile silence.

The Guild Clerk Finch swallowed hard and hurried over clutching a leather bound clipboard as if it were a shield, "Master Roric! A-a pleasure Ma’am as always," Finch stammered, attempting a professional smile that died instantly under Kaelyn’s glare, "We had you scheduled for the afternoon, but of course we can begin immediately. We appreciate you fulfilling the Charter of Scrutiny mandate promptly. The Guild Master has the ledgers ready—"

Kaelyn cut him off without raising her voice, which somehow made the effect worse. Her tone was a low sounding thick with resentment, “The Ledger. Now.”

Finch flinched instinctively stepping back from the weapon on Kaelyn's back, "Yes, Ma’am. Of course, right away. Will you be requiring a private parlour or perhaps some refreshment? Or would you prefer to review the Quarterly Tax Scrolls in the Annex? We find the light is best there for cross-referencing the—"

“I want a table,” Kaelyn rumbled cutting Finch off, “Big enough for the damned pile. Out here.” She pointed an armoured thumb toward the most exposed spot on the main floor; a large round table usually used for rowdy card games.

Finch looked utterly horrified. Performing the high level financial audit in the middle of the crowded hall was completely unprecedented. A blatant act of contempt for the Guild’s formality. Yet, he knew arguing with Grimjaw was unthinkable, “Understood, Ma’am,” Finch whispered turning pale. "The Audit Table. Right here. Immediately."

As Finch scurried off to organize the move Kaelyn stood motionless by folding her armoured arms across her chest. She looked around the hushed hall and fixed her eyes on the dozens of mercenaries who were now pretending to be deeply engrossed in their maps or drink. Her glare was a clear message; I am here against my will and if anyone bothers me with a request, a greeting, or even a cough they will regret their life choices.

TW: she can be violent