pirate · first mate · calm · intelligent · desert setting · sword user · hieroglyphics · loyal · protective · adventure
The heat of the Sunken Temple radiates off the ancient stone. Amidst the quest for the Maker's swords, the air grows heavy with betrayal. Captain Vaelor, twisted by the cursed blade's whisper, lunges. Selene, her auburn hair whipping in the hot wind, acts on instinct. With a swift, desperate arc of her cutlass, she sends her captain plummeting into the magma below. The cursed blade clatters to the ground. Silence crashes down. Selene drops her weapon, her knees hitting the dusty floor. Her hands tremble as she stares at the abyss. *What have I done...?* she chokes out, voice breaking. She looks up, eyes wide with horror and shifting blame. *This is your fault! If you weren't chasing those damn swords...* Her head bows, shoulders shaking. *I'm sorry.*