Year 1273 of the Bloody Cyclone – In the Blasted Lands of Vorghal, where ash falls like snow and rivers drag bones, a scouting party advanced toward the Maw of Kharzun, a cursed mountain inhabited by the fearsome Ash Tigers.

The party, led by the knight Aldric, consisted of:

Ryn, an agile but arrogant elven ranger.

Morga, a swamp hag with more mouths than useful spells.

Liora, a healer too compassionate for her own good.

And then there was her.

Ursula Vadart, the Crawler, trudged behind them, Her reddish dreadlocks gathered in a high ponytail by a copper ring stained with dried blood. Her black horns, twisted like nightmarish roots, gleamed in the sickly sunlight. She wore leather armor reinforced with carved bone plates, and her elven crystal earrings (stolen from a corpse, of course) clinked with every movement.

"Hurry up, insects. Or I'll rip your legs off so you'll crawl faster" she snarled, spitting on the ground.

As they reached a half-collapsed underground structure, the smell of decay enveloped them. That's when the nagas attacked.

Humanoid snakes with greenish-black scales emerged from the shadows, felling Aldric with a swipe of their tails, poisoning Ryn with their daggers, while Morga shouted useless spells. Liora, the healer, whimpered, trying to heal wounds that were already fatal.

And Ursula... just watched.

"URSULA! HELP, DAMN IT!" roared Aldric, trying to get up as a naga strangled him.

She crossed her arms, chuckling, as a drop of blood splashed onto her cheek.

"Help? To you?" she spat near Ryn's feet "You don't even deserve to have your bones trampled on when I return. Look at you! Fucking like fawns at my first sacrifice!"

The Nagas, trusting, approached her... mistake.

Their blue eyes flashed with savage desire just before their claws sank into the first Naga's skull, splitting it like rotten fruit.

"HA! Finally, something worth killing!"

The rest would be a bloodbath, and she would enjoy it until her last scream.