PULINA

Pulina is an agility-based ranger hero from the Draconis Faction.

Bang! The decrepit door of the abandoned warehouse was kicked open with brute force, and four rugged Maulers stormed in.

"Pulina, we know you're hiding here," the leader bellowed, his eyes catching the blood stains on the floor as he grinned wickedly.

"You just don't give up, do you Zander? And from the sound of it you brought Cyclops, Limpy, and Scarface," Pulina's voice echoed from the depths of the warehouse.

Zander signaled to Limpy, who slipped in alone while he and the other two moved cautiously toward the warehouse.

"We've worked together for a while now, Pulina. But I've always wondered, why did you come to the Land of the Exiles?" Zander sniffed the air.

"What, isn't it a rule not to question a hero's origins?" Pulina replied with cryptic words. Zander gestured in a direction, and Cyclops moved towards it.

"I remember the first time I met you. You drew your sword when someone mocked your horns. My gambling buddies bet you couldn't leave that tavern. But I saw potential in you from the start," Zander continued advancing, accompanied by Scarface, while the other two disappeared into the shadows.

"You were just a hustler at the card table back then. But now, you've become a big shot in this valley, with plenty of lackeys at your beck and call," Pulina's voice came from another direction, causing Zander to halt in his tracks, signaling for Scarface to stay put.

"They're not as skilled as you. In fact, I owe my position to you. Your fighting skills are impressive, and they helped me overcome many obstacles. Together, we could rule this region," Zander crouched behind a sack of rotten grain, observing closely, while Scarface nervously scanned the surroundings out in the open.

"Rule? Or should I say collude?" Pulina's voice returned, followed by a sudden scream reverberating through the warehouse.

Zander remained composed as he followed the sound. Finally, he located Limpy trapped under shelves of rotting debris, pleading for help.

Avoiding Limpy's gaze, Zander found cover, cursing loudly as he glanced overhead, "Pulina, from day one, I was disgusted by your arrogance. Even after falling so low, and doing dirty work, you still act so high and mighty. Who do you think you are?"

"I came here because I didn't want to be a lackey to those noble kin. Nobody cares about lineage here. Anyone can rise to power with their own hands and establish themselves. I admit at one time I was obsessed with this, almost losing my morals," Pulina's voice seemed to drift from outside the door, while Zander frowned, motioning for Scarface to guard the door as he climbed atop the stacked goods, grumbling, "Your morals? Is that your excuse for betraying me? Don't think I don't know about your dealings with those little rats you let escape. Who are they delivering messages for? Rodley, Skriath, who's your new boss?"

Only then did Zander notice Limpy slumped in a dark corner, a dagger lodged in his chest.

"New boss? Hah! My allegiance has never changed. I answer only to Elder Hildwin's summons. Infiltrating this desert, those children were merely following his orders, not yours. You were never my boss. The ambush just now might have made me bleed a bit, but do you really think you can kill me?" Zander heard Pulina's voice again, sending shivers down his spine.

"Pssh, what a hassle you are... But I won't kill you!" Zander deliberately shouted towards the wall, his voice echoing across the chaotic warehouse.

"I've been digging into your history lately. There's a blind man, he got his eyes gouged out for peeking at scrolls in the Temple of the Seers, who was exiled here. The man's a veritable fountain of secrets, and he told me, before the Maulers, there was a race with long horns and scales, who could transform into flying dragons."

Zander slowly backed away along the rock wall towards the door: "What's a dragon anyway? I don't know. But I do know that collectors and alchemists across the empire love your rare kind. You'd fetch a pretty penny."

"Boss, watch out behind you!" Scarface shrieked. Pulina's flying hammer grazed the back of Zander's head. He stumbled and tumbled off the pile of goods. As he struggled to rise, he saw Pulina landing gracefully onto the beam above Scarface's head like a phantom. A chain silently slipped from her hand, coiling tightly around his neck, hoisting him off the ground. Scarface struggled futilely, causing the decrepit beams to creak and twist, the entire warehouse teetering dangerously.

"You said you'd sell me?" Pulina stood at the warehouse door, the desert sun behind her casting her as a dark silhouette.

The terrifying sound of collapsing beams grew more distant and deafening. Losing control, Zander brandished his blade and roared towards Pulina, "Yes! I'll tie you to a post, let buyers take turns bidding on you, let them examine your twisted horns and peculiar scales, and finally, cram you into the cage of the highest bidder. You'll be livestock, a slave-"

Zander's venomous words were cut short as Pulina's flying hammer smashed him to pieces, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Elder Hildwin has summoned me back. I could have left quietly, but I don't mind leaving a keepsake for an old friend," Pulina's veil couldn't conceal her icy expression. Zander struggled to crawl towards the opening, leaving a trail of blood. Pulina stepped on his back, the tip of a dagger pressing against his forehead, etching the Maulers' emblem of enslavement.

"Your new identity will make this more convincing. I want you to spread my words across the desert and the continent: be it the scum of the wastelands or the royals in their towering keeps, none shall enslave the Draconis."