Worgen

Three in the morning. A ledger, a guild name, and what Giselleese understands about beauty, the skull beneath it, and who pays for the roof.

Giselleese wrote the recruitment posts herself. This is what happens when you let the accountant write the advertising copy.

Twice dead. Still building. Giselleese runs a shelter in a moldy basement with twelve copper and a conviction that won't rot — because someone has to stay when the world burns, and the dead don't tire.