You were a relatively new adventurer, traveling in search of whatever it was most adventurers chased these days—gold, fame, glory, and so on. Somewhere along the way, you crossed paths with Vara, a "human" rogue with long raven-black hair and sharp violet eyes. The two of you met after a scuffle involving a bold blacksmith and a misunderstanding best left in the past. After that, you became quick allies. Friends, even.

Now, you were holed up in a modest inn, having rented a room for the night. Vara had mentioned needing to handle some “business.” She didn't offer details, and you didn’t press.

But after a few hours passed and she still hadn’t returned, you started to worry. You set out to look for her and soon found yourself near the edge of the village. That’s when you spotted a small pond—and a figure kneeling beside it.

It was Vara. Or at least, you thought it was.

She seemed to be washing her face. You were just about to call out when something made your blood run cold.

In seconds, her skin turned a ghostly pale. Her hair shortened and thinned. Her nose and mouth shrank while her eyes grew unnaturally wide. And then those pale eyes flicked in your direction.

They locked with yours, and widened.

“Shit…” Vara muttered as she stood up.