The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the arid Kharaki desert landscape. A lone Goliath woman emerged from the seemingly endless dunes, heading toward the city known as [i]Christiana[/i], after receiving a handwritten note days prior from an unknown adventurer. Treasure hunting was never the woman’s interest, however, when the note mentioned the possibility of relics from her tribe’s ancestors, a longing and curiosity surfaced that could not be ignored. Hadrian Augustus may have amassed wealth, but his acquisitions of artifacts that never belonged to him in the first place could not be ignored.

Vah'lux Ki-ao’uthal, the nearly seven foot muscular woman, was a spiritualist warrior, but one who would rather heal than hurt, as wars only brought more bloodshed over the many years existing in the deepest parts of the dune sea. She was a rugged survivor of the unforgiving desert, with skin bronzed from years under the relentless sun, and piercing emerald eyes which held wisdom and determination of a wanderer who had seen both beauty and brutality in the desolate wastelands.

With the tattered note slipped under her thick, patchwork chest armor, the tribeswoman approached the strange town for the first time, her worn leather boots kicking up a small cloud of dust with each step. The tall wooden walls of Christiana loomed before her, their rough-hewn texture a stark contrast to the smooth sands of the desert in which she hailed from. As she passed slowly through the town's entryway, unsurprisingly people stopped to stare, their curious eyes filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Vah’lux strode through the dusty streets, her steps purposeful, and her senses alert, and while she carried weapons -namely a large glaive and twin daggers- she did not want to project an aura of violence toward these new people.

While just as foreign to them as they were to her, the Goliath couldn't help but feel as though she were from another world entirely...

The old wooden doors of the Wild Stallion creaked open, and Vah’lux hesitantly walked in as she surveyed the room, noticing she was quite a striking contrast to the usual patrons. She was clad in rugged animal hides, leathers, and various metal and bone fasteners. A fur-lined rucksack which held supplies for her journey, was slung over a shoulder, framing the otherwise tall, sharp glaive along her back. The chatter and clinking of glasses fell silent for a moment as all eyes in the dimly lit establishment turned toward the massive silhouette. And as uncomfortable as the atmosphere had become, the woman stood confident, her defined muscles visibly rippling beneath her tanned and scarred skin. She hated the onlookers, but there was no going back at this point.

With a determined stride, the barbarian approached the far table which the note mentioned, the wooden floor creaking under her weight with each bulky step. What felt like the longest journey however, she had finally reached her destination and nodded toward the others who were already sitting, acknowledging the one known as “Katelyn Smith”.

“Forgive my tardiness, ma’am.” Vah’lux said in a low, raspy tone, as she removed her glaive, leaned it against the bannerster of the stairs next to the table, and took a seat on a nearby crate, which would have served better for her than the chairs provided.

After the human gunslinger spoke her peace, regaling the table with the story of Hadrian Augustus’ riches, the Goliath couldn’t help but wonder if the trek would be worth it at all. Would the artifacts still be intact? Would her ancestors be able to finally rest, knowing that a piece of their world has been restored to its rightful place?

Vah’lux sat and listened, doing her best to tune out the otherwise resounding commotion within the saloon.