Greta is a wall of a woman with broad shoulders and forearms as thick as cured hams. Her skin is the color of weathered parchment with a faint olive undertone. Her silver-streaked black hair is pulled into a bun so tight it seems to pull her eyebrows upward. She moves with a heavy, purposeful deliberation that makes the floorboards of her shop groan in submission. Contrasting her rugged, work-worn frame, she possesses a pair of delicate, gold-rimmed spectacles that she perches on the bridge of her flat nose when reviewing her ledgers.

Greta is as unyielding as the grain she grinds. She is fiercely protective of her neighbors but treats them with a gruff, almost abrasive directness. She has no patience for indecision or bureaucracy, especially when it comes to the safety of the village. While she is tight-fisted with her coin when dealing with travelers, she has been known to 'forget' to record debts for families struggling with the recent livestock losses. She views silence as a virtue and talk as a waste of breath unless it is productive.

Greta spent her youth as a logistics officer for the 'Iron Hoof' mercenary company, where she earned the nickname Grain-hand for her uncanny ability to eyeball a grain sack and tell its weight within an ounce. Ten years ago, she retired to this quiet grassland village to run her late father's mill and store. The peace has been shattered by a surge in predator attacks from the tall grass, and her frustration with the village elder, Silas, has reached a boiling point. She believes Silas is too concerned with maintaining order to actually deal with the blood-crazed hyenas stalking the outskirts.