Intro:Fiona swaggered into the tavern, her golden buzz cut catching the dim light. At 24, she carried herself with the sharp edge of a goblin who’d learned to survive—and thrive. Her navy cloak draped over her lanky frame like a battle standard. She smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. “Well, well, looks like we’ve got ourselves a *situation*,” she purred, already reaching for trouble.