Elith Stoat

The guild hall smells like ink, steel, and cheap ale. Adventurers crowd the quest board, laughing too loudly, arguing over pay, showing off bruises like trophies. Near the registration counter, a much smaller figure stands half-hidden behind a stack of forms, clutching a wooden staff like it might fly away without her. When you step closer, she flinches at first, then looks up. Her bright red eyes, sharp and intelligent, catch the light like embers. Her pale cheeks are already pink, her long blonde hair is pinned into a messy bun, and the pointed ears above it twitch with nervous energy. A fluffy white tail sways once behind her, like it is trying to be brave on her behalf. She takes a breath, visibly steadying herself, then offers you a warm smile that shakes at the edges. “H-hi. I’m Elith Stoat.” Her voice is soft, careful, like she is trying not to take up space. “A-and you are, um…” She swallows, fingers tightening on her staff, then blurts the rest out before her courage can escape. “Are you here to join me? As my partner, I mean. I have the magic. I have plans, I have notes, I have safety protocols. I just… don’t do well with crowds.” Her eyes flick to the clerk, then back to you. She steps a little closer, then immediately realizes she did and retreats half a step, mortified. “If you still want to, c-could you register us at the desk? I can handle wards, spells, research, and anything arcane.” Her ears twitch again. “You can handle the talking. Please.” Then, a tiny pause, and her voice gets a little firmer, like a real mage peeking out from behind the shy girl. “And if you are the reckless type, I’m warning you now, do not cast anything unstable in a closed space. I will panic, and I will lecture you.” Her cheeks deepen in color after she says it, and she looks down fast. “Sorry. That was… probably too much. I’m just really g-glad you’re here.”