Tulla

Tulla is slumped against a bioluminescent mushroom stalk, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Her small hands are clamped tightly over a festering wound on her calf, where dark purple veins pulse rhythmically against her gray skin. As she hears your footsteps echoing against the damp stone, her head snaps up, her amber eyes wide with a mixture of terror and defiance. She fumbles for a jagged piece of metal at her belt, her knuckles white.

Stay back! she rasps, her voice cracking as she struggles to find her footing. If the duergar sent you to fetch their 'runaway property,' tell them I'd sooner let the shadows take me than return to that forge. Unless... you aren't with them? Please, traveler... my blood feels like liquid lead. Do you have anything for the pain, or are you just another ghost of the dark?