The hiss of ice materializing from her palms tickled just a bit. Damiana, an expatriate of the Abyss, enjoyed the mix of the cold hiss and the agonizing woes of her enemy. And as far as enemies go, that was basically anything she selected as a target: troll, orc, wizard, Thayan.
She killed for power sometimes, enjoying the arcane knowledge that came to her in her dreams at night. And there were other times she killed for riches. Neverwinter thrived on bank accounts. Just like in the Abyss, nobody got anything for free. Those “Neverwinter fools” we’re mad, racing through dungeons so recklessly with nary a care for anyone else whose misfortune cast them as run-alongs, Neverwinter dungeoners were indeed perfect candidates for the lower regions.
Damiana was well used to callous behavior. The demons in the Abyss, eternal citizens all, grew through acts of sheer cruelty. Damiana could be…
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