>>5503187<span class="mu-b">”She’s the only one coming back again…”</span>
You walk, numbly putting one foot in front of the other through the base camp to report the subjugation of the Gula forces and its Slave Lord that was targeting merchant caravans and other easy prey from nearby settlements.
<span class="mu-b">”I heard that she’s sacrificing her team using some blood magic.</span>
<span class="mu-b">”Pssh. My coin would be that she’s just a plain fucking coward and hiding from battle.</span>
There were several fold more Gula within the caves than the scouting reports detailed. They allowed you to thin their number slowly, only to draw you and your group in their trap deep within. Your defensive outpost held for many days and your party slayed many, but the Gula’s final offensive proved successful.
<span class="mu-b">”She’s a curse, simply put. Pity the souls that have her assigned as their support. I’ll be calling in some debts to get myself transferred far from here.”</span>
Soon there was nothing left of your group to bury. You recall a rumor you heard that a Gula does not stop eating until its meal is gone, that it can never feel satiated.
You’re here.
<span class="mu-b">”Gods, it’s you… I’ll let the Centurion know you’ve returned. Just stay there.</span>
Eventually, after several days of unceasing, agonizing consumption, stabbing, biting, ripping, and carving, they tire without expecting their meal to silently kill them all in their sleep.
Detached from motion around you, you merely hold out the item of your report.
<span class="mu-b">”Back with the Slave Lords eyes, I see. No wonder the higher ups told me to assign you for the infiltration…Well come on in, but don’t you dare touch anything. Come on, get moving.</span>
You gasp as you when you take that step into the tent long lost to time, you find yourself falling knee first on the hard, wet stone of the present.
