Taalia Giovanni

With her exploits unlocking enough street cred to at least pass the bar of entry, Taalia was swiftly whisked away to a change room where a set of old leather armor and a tabard was shoved into her grasp. Already the girl scrunched her nose at the scent - pwah! Gross! she hissed inside her head, while the scrappy, slept-on-a-floor specter of her past glared at her current state from a hidden part of her mind.

"Stick with you..." Taalia responded, her mouth forming an O-shape in surprise as she pulled the leather armor over the padding that had formed the undergarment of her mail - this set clearly made for a, ahem, male occupant.

"Ride out the clock..." she pulled the tabard over her new leather cuirass.

"And whack any bastardo that gets too close..." she emerged from the change room, her armournot the greatest fit, but the short-comings obscured behind the team tabard, while her braided, white hair was drawn behind her angular, pleasing features that offered that grin, her scar running down the side of her face.