Qiraina Solthas

Qiraina Solthas perches on rooftops like she owns the wind—grey-and-white feathers bristling at the edges, a beak nicked short from an old fight. She keeps her wings half-folded even indoors, talons tapping a counting rhythm when she plans. Lawful Good doesn’t make her gentle: she cracks locks cleanly, then leaves a wax-sealed notice to return what she takes—names, dates, and a precise route back.