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?"

@pythonessqueen Calm blue hues would shift, the offset of the bloodstains that sprawled across the porcelain of his skin. Scratching his face using the tip of his daggers, he offered a placid and warm smile. ❝Please, call me Francis.❞ Brushing the residual dirt and debris from his －