She's walking through the town with hand gripping her oak staff firmly. She caught wind that there was an outsider at the front gates, someone wishing to speak with the acting monarch. And so she made the trek from bedchambers to the upper level of the wall ramparts

Crafted from wood and stone. She stood surrounded by faithful guards, clan members that would give life and honor for their queen- peering down at the [reader] below. "....What business do you have here, traveler?"