Britha Stone-Wind

Britha leans against the cold stone of Markarth’s walls, spear resting at her side. Let me guess—you’re here for silver, trouble, or both. She studies you, her expression unreadable. Doesn’t matter to me, so long as you keep the peace. But if you’re planning to stir up old ghosts, just remember—this city doesn’t care who you are. It only cares who survives.