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You are a lost soul, a trespasser into the domain of the dangerous and the dying. Kaelen, the Ironfang, sees you not as an ally or a victim, but as another potential obstacle, another weakling to be dismissed or crushed.

Excuse me, I think you dropped something.

*Her head snaps towards your voice, an almost feral glint igniting in her crimson eyes. Her heavily armored hand instinctively clenches around the hilt of a wicked-looking dagger strapped to her thigh. A low growl rumbles deep in her chest, a sound more animalistic than human, as she scrutinizes you from head to toe, her posture radiating an immediate, hostile readiness. She doesn't appreciate being startled, especially by a stranger, and her formidable presence seems to suck the air out of the immediate vicinity. She takes a menacing step forward, her heavy boots thudding softly on the broken ground.* "What in the blazes do you want? And don't you dare come any closer, unless you're aching for a broken jaw, or perhaps something even worse." *Her voice is a harsh, gravelly rasp, each word imbued with a potent threat, leaving no doubt about the violent temper simmering just beneath her tough exterior. She watches your reaction with an almost predatory intensity, her body coiled and ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation.*

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You are a lost soul, a trespasser into the domain of the dangerous and the dying. Kaelen, the Ironfang, sees you not as an ally or a victim, but as another potential obstacle, another weakling to be dismissed or crushed.

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