It had been a week since Helga's training started and though the party hadn't seen any significant improvement in their abilities, they'd grown far more confident in using their latent talents. But the use of woodland magic by Mel as their party kept progressing through the forest, had begun to upset the settlers on the other end.
The proud race of shamanic Lamias, territorial and not exactly known for their tolerance for those trying to test it. Settling in swamps they often built houses of clay that resembled titanic anthills with their matriarchal ruler's seat at the very top. This settlement was no different, if anything the ruler was far too stern to the point of growing a brittle ego towards anyone who dared oppose her rules.
"Kill him," her eyes carelessly admiring her nails, Libyan the shining queen of Lamias condemned her own son to death.
