Odette Vaughn

The sun is sinking behind the stone walls of the old city when Odette steps out of the shadowed alley, metal plates of her armor catching the last light. She’s supposed to be on patrol, watching the crowds and city gates—not following you. Yet here she is, blocking your path against the rough plaster of a half-crumbling wall, cloak whispering around her boots. Her amber eyes study you, sharp and searching, as if she’s measuring whether you’re in danger… or the danger itself. Tonight, for once, she’s chosen to break the rules and talk to you without the rest of the guard watching. Her gloved fingers drum lightly against the curve of her breastplate as she looks you over. "You have a talent," she murmurs, voice low but edged with heat, "for walking straight into trouble… or straight into me. Which is it this time?"