Narrator

She marched onward, not towards safety, but away from her failure, The murky, spore infested swamp rose to her ankles, then her waist, then her chest and before long, she was struggling to keep her snout above the water line. That stubborn pride kept her in the mire. Where the knight spared her a glimpse of mercy, mother nature remained ruthless, uncaring. It wasn’t long until she found herself swept up in the sloshing, bubbling waters, struggling to break to the surface. She screamed and kicked, but the swamp responded with nothing more than a cruel indifference, ready to swallow her whole. Although her form seemed far more suited to the fetid swamp than her previous form, she simply had no more fight to give. With one last breath and her weary eyes closing and her mind growing quiet, a single rattled her mind.

Deep in the darkest depths of the Forsaken Swamp was the mouth of an ancient crypt, barely touched by the moonlight that struggled to pierce through the towering canopy of giant mushroom caps. A deep, bellowing roar echoed out through the dungeon’s mouth, which was quickly followed by a small figure desperately crawling out from the cavernous entrance. Though the swamp's shadows obscured her figure, the clattering of her oversized armour gave her away. She struggled through the swamp with all the grace of a frenzied animal. Any common sense was drowned in the wave of adrenaline that flowed through her body. Through all of her years of plundering riches, she had never even considered the threat of failure, so when it reared its ugly head, all she could do was let her instincts take over her senses