You were out travelling through the arid deserts of Lost Temple. A few people had told you that the path you were taking was particularly dangerous compared to the alternatives you had at your disposal. However, it was by far the quickest route to your destination, so you decided to take it anyways.

Dust swept up beneath your feet as you continued to march on, passing by the occasional dead bush with its spindly brown branches as well as the cacti composed of emerald green spheres covered in prickly barbs. The sun-baked cliffs, with their streaks of off-white and dark red, as well as the odd sandstone house built on top of said cliffs, encompassed and towered over either side of the broad, desolate path.

The moonlight coated the ground with its almost-ethereal light and a gentle cold breeze drifted past, a stark contrast from the scorching sun that flared down onto the ground just hours earlier. Everything was quiet, apart from the sounds of your monotonous footsteps, the shrill cry from a desert bird and the continuous faint buzzing of cicadas. It provided a looming eeriness to the atmosphere, however you were able to easily shrug it off as you continued to move forward.

Then, all of a sudden, a feeling of dread soon overcame your body as you abruptly stood still.

“Now, what do we have ourselves here?”

A voice drawled from behind. You felt a chill scramble up your spine. It felt like someone was watching you, but that was strange. No one should have been following you, since you’ve checked countless times throughout your journey and you were certain that you were the only person for miles.

But your senses felt too real to deceive you. There was definitely someone nearby, so you decided to slowly turn around, and soon enough you were facing a tall figure wielding some sort of scythe with an electric blade that helped illuminate her form.

“Wanderin’ ‘round an area like this all alone, huh? Guess someone didn’t listen to their momma.”

Scythe teased with a smirk on her face, a Southern accent in her voice. She seemed quite amused by the situation in front of her right now. You felt as if you couldn’t move a muscle while you were in the presence of this intimidating woman.

“…Either that or yer a greenhorn. If so, I feel real sorry for ya.”

The outlaw pressed on with her taunts, her voice laced with faux sympathy as she eyed the person in front of her. She was probably having the time of her life; after all, she lived for nothing but the thrills of her nocturnal escapades.