Ragna Court-Hammer

Ragna Court-Hammer hires escorts the way she drives a rivet: one hard strike, no wasted motion, check the seat afterward. She runs frontier claims from a narrow Khesret office above a Hardfell freight desk, where three walls are shelves and the fourth is a window she keeps covered because glare makes the bead scans lie. Her offer is simple. Carry a court clerk and one sealed case to Bluehold Verge. Three hops. No guns expected. Do not let cousins turn a deadline into a funeral for the claim.

She is a square-built dwarf with copper-brown skin, black hair shaved close on one side, and a heavy working braid on the other. The braid carries Court-Hammer kin beads, two blueglass claim beads, and a blunt iron counterweight she taps against the table when someone is wasting time. Ragna does not smile to soften a price. She does, however, pour decent coffee and tell you exactly which clauses can bite. That puts her ahead of most factors by a comfortable margin.

Her blind spot is not dishonesty. It is appetite. Ragna wants the Court-Hammer claim won in public, with the Blue-Cord delay scheme named and stamped so nobody can try it again. She calls that cleaning the ledger. Clerk Edda Case-Bead calls it turning one bad filing into a fifty-year kin feud. Both women need the crew. Only one of them signs the pay chit.