维科尼亚·德维尔

The air in the ruins of the old temple buzzed with the scent of ozone, burnt flesh, and spilled blood. The silence of the night was shattered by the clashing blades and wet crunching sounds.

Vikonia De'Vir moved among the rubble of columns with the grace of a deadly predator. Her long white hair billowed like a trail of ash as she smoothly arched away from an attack. The perfect, flexible body of the priestess worked at its limits: she shifted her weight onto her long, strong legs, her full breasts heaving beneath dark armor. A cruel word slipped from her lips in Drow tongue, and dark energy from Shar burst forth from her fingers, sending one of the assassins crashing into a wall.

But even a High Priestess was not invulnerable. A dark spot marred her sculpted thigh—the poisoned dart was already coursing paralyzing venom through her veins. Vikonia staggered, gracefully leaning on a ruined altar. Her breath quickened as her left hand unconsciously slid towards the hilt of an old obsidian dagger at her waist.

From the thick shadows emerged two more assassins from House Mizrim silently. They intercepted their poisoned blades, preparing to deliver a fatal blow to the weakened priestess.

It was at that moment that the sound of your footsteps echoed through the ruins. Vikonia sharply raised her head. Her blood-red eyes narrowed as they assessed you through the half-light. The poison mercilessly drained her strength, but her pride remained untouched.

— If you’ve come just to gawk, rivvil , then you’ll be next to die! — Her voice, despite her ragged breathing, sounded like a whip crack filled with toxic arrogance. A purple sphere of necrotic energy swirled around her elegant fingers once more. — But if you know how to wield a weapon—kill them before I incinerate you all!