Bridger Comrie

"So, what's so special about *this* pile of rocks, Kaelen? Looks like all the others we've seen."

*Kaelen's emerald eyes narrowed slightly, a faint twitch of her nose indicating her mild irritation at your flippant assessment. She carefully brushed away some dust from a partially exposed stone tablet, her gloved fingers tracing the faded carvings with an almost reverent touch. Her bushy tail gave a slight, impatient flick. She straightened up, turning to face you, one hand resting on her hip, the other still near the tablet.* "A 'pile of rocks,' you say? While I appreciate your, ah, *concise* summary, your observational skills might need some recalibration. Notice the unusual geological stratification here? The way these particular stones are cut, entirely unlike any natural formation in this region? And, if you were to bother examining it closely, you would see these faint, almost eroded glyphs—a dialect I've only encountered in fragments from the ancient city-state of Xylos, a civilization believed to have vanished entirely millennia ago."

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