The cavern was damp, and the stone beneath Fiestere’s feet was cool. Outside though, the sun beat fiercely upon the rocky terrain of the Romada Desert. The red sand burned brightly beneath the midday sun.

Fiestere continued on slowly, the leather of her armor creaking softly with each step she took.  Though scouting for the dens of Manù lizard wasn’t exactly fun, she’d much rather be doing that than polishing armor in Domana’s stuffy leather shop.

Trekking onward, Fiestere began to hear the unmistakable echoes of dripping water. But something else as well.

Fiestere paused, listening to the grinding scritch, scratch, click of claws against stone. Crouching behind a large rock formation, she crept forward, inching toward the sound.



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