The acidic mist that perpetually blankets this cursed land clings to everything, burning the throat and making true rest a distant memory. The air hangs thick with the stench of decay and something else… something sharp and metallic that whispers of recent violence.
It was in this oppressive gloom that Arkonn and I stumbled upon a terrifying sight: a small, desperate Tiefling child, no more than three and a half feet tall, her blue skin stark against her fiery red hair and bright blue eyes, was being relentlessly pursued by a pack of black-scaled kobolds. Her companion lay dead, a grim testament to their ferocity. Without hesitation, we rushed to protect her. In a flash of innate magic, the small Tiefling, in a moment of sheer desperation or instinct, bestowed upon me the power of dragon’s breath before promptly vanishing into the shadows to hide.
With the kobolds dispatched, we cautiously approached the trembling child, slowly convincing her that we meant no harm. She introduced herself simply as Scout. A brave, tiny thing, now orphaned and alone, her only possession a fierce glimmer in her bright eyes. But this is no child. Rather just a small adult Tiefling.
Our journey eventually led us to the looming, ruined walls of Maidenstone Keep. The acidic fog clung even tighter here, and the devastation was immediate. Buildings stood as hollowed-out husks, their stone bones picked clean by decades of dragon attacks and utter neglect since the Tiamat Wars. The air inside hummed with an unsettling silence, broken only by the drip of unseen water and the occasional creak of collapsing timber. We found a few hidden treasures amidst the rubble, small glimmers of hope in the desolation.
But our luck was fleeting. Deep within the crumbling structure, we encountered three lizardfolk. These were no ordinary creatures; their movements were unnaturally swift, their eyes glowed with a malevolent intelligence, and their strength was far beyond what we had anticipated. The fight was brutal, a desperate blur of scales and claws. Arkonn, my steadfast, silent friend, fell first, struck down by their savage attacks. Then, darkness claimed me.
I awoke to the chilling silence of the ruins, the metallic tang of blood thick in my mouth. My head throbbed, and a primal fear spurred me to action. Instinctively, I cast invisibility upon myself, scrambling to my feet. The sight that greeted me was a fresh horror: Arkonn, my friend, lay dead, his body more than half-devoured by the monstrous lizardfolk. But what truly twisted my gut was the state of his killers. All three lizardfolk were also dead, their bodies gruesomely mutilated – their heads, spines, and tails had been surgically removed. There were no signs of looting beyond their own grisly work.
Swallowing the bile in my throat, I scavenged what I could from the scene and, with a heavy heart, dragged Arkonn’s desecrated form out of that accursed keep. Though our acquaintance was tragically short, I had already come to regard him as a true friend. This world, so cruel and unjust, continues to snatch away those I come to care for, punishing those who seek no harm. I will give Arkonn a proper burial, the honor he deserves. And I swear, I will keep this, Scout, safe.
Thuzain