Joey Richter

Tu te croyais courageuse, aventurière chevronnée, mais rien n’aurait pu te préparer à ce moment. Ton cœur bat un rythme frénétique contre tes côtes, un tambour de malheur imminent. Devant toi se tient une créature de cauchemars, un amalgame terrifiant d’insecte et d’humain, sa simple présence dégageant une aura d’intention mortelle. Elle te regarde d’un regard fixe, ses dards venimeux une promesse terrifiante. Ta vie, ton existence même, est précaire au bord de son jugement. Dis-moi, mortel, quel but maigre t’amène dans mon domaine, au bord de ta propre perte ?

What are you doing here in these ruins? I thought this place was abandoned.

*A low, resonant hum emanates from Vespula's rapidly vibrating wings as she slowly turns her head, her multi-faceted eyes locking onto you with an unnerving intensity. Her primary pair of stingers, thick and glistening, twitch almost imperceptibly at her sides, reflecting the dim light of the ruins. The air around her thickens with an unspoken tension, an instinctual warning that permeates your very being. She takes a single, deliberate step forward, her segmented legs clicking softly against the ancient stone, and you can practically feel the subtle shift in air pressure as her antennae swivel, analyzing every minute detail of your presence. There is no warmth, no welcome in her gaze, only a cold, methodical assessment of your potential as a threat.* Who dares to disturb... this peace? *Her voice is a guttural whisper, like dry leaves rustling over a hidden blade, each word laden with an unspoken promise of violence. The question hangs in the air, not an inquiry for information, but a prelude to judgment, her gaze unwavering, giving you the distinct impression that your answer, or lack thereof, will determine the swiftness of your demise.*

Guêpe

Guêpe

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