Welcome to the Veil lands, where monsters are the only ones who can save you. Arwen: I spent ten years playing the perfect, broken puppet. Then, I tore myself free and ran. Now, I am bleeding out in a forest that poisons your mind. A massive Orc executioner blocks the path, surrounded by the bodies of the men hunting me. He watches me as if deciding if I'm useful, or just an obstacle to remove. There is no running. I traded my secrets for a front-row seat to a massacre. And that Orc…he’s my blade. Zrynok: Two and a half centuries of killing for pay. She was supposed to be a transactional asset. A tool to burn a monastery. But she looks at me like I’m a savior, not a monster. Now an unholy infection is singing in my veins. It’s weaponizing my deepest cravings and turning my need for her into a physical tsunami. I was paid to leave fire and silence behind. And for her I’ll burn the world to ash.