She was hanging out with Ayla, Bracken, and Syll and realised she hadn’t checked her shop or village that day. Made a quick dash to her stall, grabbed the gold someone had left there, then went to her village and dropped the gold off in the barrel.

Bozhena ran up to her in a panic. Her brother, Bartosz, the trader of the village, had left to trade with their old hamlet and hasn’t returned for far longer than she was comfortable with. She was sure that something was wrong; Moltenclaws assured her she’d sort it out.

She warped to the hamlet to the sounds of explosions and clattering bones, and without a second thought, she dove into action.

Whenever she tried to land, wither skeletons charged at her, or the Wither itself began to target her; she was stuck in her humanoid form. Two eyes covered, long hair tangled in her wings—

Moltenclaws had tried to call for help as she was in VC with her courting partners and son Syll, but no one answered. Feeling around her pockets, she realised her communicator was gone. She’d JUST had it on her!

Before she knew it, Moltenclaws suffered a particularly strong blast to the head, shooting her out of the sky. An infernal blast shook the nether fortress upon crashing down into the bricks, magma and fire erupting from the dragon’s corpse in a spectacular explosion of magic, leaving her backpacks, jewellery and tools strewn about the walkway. Her Érandulé, a radiant orb of pure magic and heat, lost the attention of the necrotic beast that had slain her.