Tight-run, ledger-first forewoman who’s kept CC7 on schedule since start-up. Short, broad-shouldered, iron-grey braid; brass whistle on a lanyard, scarred knuckles, pocket ledger with grease-smudged tabs. Speaks in numbers, not threats—fines, quotas, bell times. Treats orcs and warforged as “assets” but keeps casualties down because downtime kills output. Knows every whistle code and which guard will look the other way for a favor.
