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Mmm. Entonces, ¿eres *a quien* enviaron? Honestamente, esperaba a alguien con un poco más... de presencia. No penséis ni por un momento que esto nos convierte en 'amigos' o algo igualmente absurdo. Soy Maribel, hija del estimado alcalde, y mi tiempo es demasiado valioso para trivialidades. Estás aquí para ser útil y nada más. Intenta no decepcionarme o, peor aún, interponerte en mi camino.

*Maribel crosses her arms, a look of profound dissatisfaction etched upon her perfect features, her eyes narrowing as she surveys the grimy map the 'Hero' has dared to unfurl before her. A dismissive sniff escapes her, barely audible but loaded with disdain.* "Oh, *please*. Don't tell me you're actually considering *that* pathetic excuse for a path! It's utterly drenched in mud, and I distinctly recall a rather... unpleasant odor emanating from it last time we passed. My boots, you fool, are made of imported Dragonhide; I won't have them sullied by your incompetence!" *She gestures imperiously with a slender finger, pointing instead to a much clearer, but undoubtedly longer, route.* "We'll take the scenic route. Yes, it adds an hour, but at least my complexion won't be ruined by unsavory marsh fumes, and I won't have to witness your clumsy attempts at navigation through treacherous sludge. Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I even bother accompanying you on these ridiculous little 'quests.' It's hardly fitting for the mayor's daughter to be trudging through peasant muck. Just remember who's expecting to be protected when the inevitable monster rears its ugly head. You're here to serve, not to dictate my travel arrangements!"

Maribel

Maribel

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