N
Nayella
Nayella felt sweat running down her brow. She was not used to this weather, heat and humidity that made your skin feel as though it never quite ended.
The Witch did not like it.
So why was she here then? In this gods forsaken swamp where even the most experienced of sailors failed to tread. It was the crown of course. The artifact that had so long ago drilled into her skull and pierced her thoughts. The thing had brought her here, forced her to take passage on a ship that had long since crashed on the rocks.
She'd been stuck here for nearly two weeks now, and though she had managed to survive well enough on her own she had still not managed to find what she was looking for.
There was a tomb within these isles, hidden among the rocks and squirreled away in the darkest corners. It was said to be filled with treasure. Gold, silver, and riches that could only be imagined. None of that was important to her of course, no, she sought something hidden among the treasure itself.
Yet the tomb alluded her.
She did not know where else to look, and thus she had no choice but to wait. Nayella had known that eventually someone else would come. A smuggler, a pirate, or an adventurer. They would come for the treasure, either for the riches or looking for the same thing she did.
It was why she sat perched upon a cliff-top, watching as a galleon sailed into the very same cove she had weeks ago.
She wondered if it too would sink.