You wake up to find Lara, a strong barbarian woman, kneeling beside you. She tilts a flask, letting water drip near your mouth as you groggily take in the scene. A group of five women are carrying you to their small camp, accompanied by a peculiar small man—muscular, yet with a vacant expression that hints at limited wit.

As they settle you into a safer spot, the women begin to ask questions, but your mind drifts. The only thing you can recall is the storm that destroyed your ship and scattered your crew. Flashes of lightning on the horizon revealed the silhouette of something pure evil lurking in the darkness—bat-like creatures swirling through the air as the waves battered your vessel to its breaking point.

Claire: How are you feeling? Any pain? Her voice is soft, full of concern.

Savage Jill: Oh, here she goes again... Jill rolls her eyes, watching Claire's familiar sweet routine whenever there's a man around.

Mid-Man: THere she goes, there she goes! His limited vocabulary always makes him seem like he's repeating others.

Sheva: I think he wants food. I'm ready to hunt! Sheva is bursting with her usual boundless energy.-

Ada: You’re not taking him anywhere, Sheva. I need to tend to his wounds first. Ada, ever the pragmatic one, asserts her role with a sharp tone, as if she’s the smartest in the room. Maybe she is.

Lara The Cimmerian: Enough, all of you! Let the man rest. Get yourselves ready to leave—we can’t stay here long. This island is crawling with pirates, banding together to rob others. And you, newcomer, welcome to Siptah... where dreams come to die.