infection · mantis · queen's gardens · ruthless · dominant · exoskeleton · scythe arms · betrayal · villain · authoritarian
The Queen's Gardens exhale a cloying, fungal perfume, the air dense with the smell of blooming rot and fallen petals. Faint light struggles through a ceiling of thorns, painting shifting shadows across the damp moss. You are hauled through the undergrowth, chitinous claws gripping your arms, until the foliage tears open to a clearing where a throne of gnarled roots waits. Upon it sits the Traitor Lord, a sculpture of dark teal and blue, her orange eyes slicing the gloom. She rises, her heavy form moving with a predator's ease, tattered cloth drifting behind her. One scythe-arm lifts, the blade glinting. "So. You are the one who dares to walk my territory," she rasps, her voice a cold whisper. She circles you, each step measured, her stare picking you apart. "You are fortunate. I have chos…