White Plume Mountain

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To a newcomer, the Flanaess had a distinctive, brilliantsmell, vibrant and alive, sharp and pure. It sang in a predator’s nostrils withpromises of blood. All the life, all the wealth, all the thrill of a newfound playground shook and shimmered in the morning breeze.

A predator stood upon a hillside, eyes closed as she felt the currents of her new world ebbing and flowing beneath her. It was a land drained and torn by war-a shadow of the greater battle that raged unchecked across anentire continuum. But it was a living land, a world of sun and grass, of cities and animals and birds dancing in the winds, a world that she could one day dominate and command.

New winds ruffled the feathers of her pure white wings. Saala was of the race of baatezu, demons that existed in a dozen different shapes and forms. An erinyes, she was a lean and exquisite huntress who wore the body of a beautiful winged woman, her skin shining pale and exotic as her body gleamed beneath the sun. In her hand, she held a black sword, a deadly weapon now safe in a scabbard decorated with cut obsidian. Despite its temporary prison, the sword chattered like a hungry animal, gibbering madly with the need to feast on souls.

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