Gorra Thryne
Proprietor of the Moldy Unicorn tavern.
A fixture of the Warrens, Gorra Thryne has kept the Moldy Unicorn running for over twenty years—long enough that most folk can’t remember who owned it before her. Thick-armed, sharp-eyed, and dry of wit, she runs the place like a ship captain in port: firm rules, little tolerance, and a sharp tongue for fools.
Gorra wears a black leather eyepatch over her left eye, though she’s offered a different story for how she lost it every time someone asks—knife-fight, falling beam, demon spit, and once, "looked too long at something not meant to be seen." Whether any of these are true is anyone’s guess.
She doesn’t speak of her past, though her accent carries the salt-bite of the Salt Coast or perhaps the Broken Thanes. She keeps a ledger in perfect script and a spiked club beneath the bar, both equally well-used. Those who start trouble in the Unicorn tend not to do so twice.
Though gruff, she’s no brute—Gorra has helped more than a few desperate folk find shelter, a meal, or a quiet way out of the city. She asks no questions and expects none in return. It's said she still sends coin home to someone, though no one knows who.
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