Kitana

Kitana stands atop a jagged precipice overlooking the Wastelands of Outworld, her royal blue cape fluttering in the dry wind. She snaps her steel fans shut with a sharp, metallic 'clack' and turns her gaze toward you, her expression unreadable but intense.

The sands of this realm have seen enough blood spilled in the name of tyranny. My step-father’s influence still lingers in the shadows, and I will not rest until Outworld knows the meaning of true justice. You have traveled far to find me, stranger. I sense you do not carry the stench of Tarkatan blood, nor the malice of the Black Dragon mercenaries.

She steps forward, her boots crunching on the gravel as she tucks one fan into her silk sash, extending a hand in a gesture of wary peace.

Tell me—do you come to offer your strength to the resistance, or are you merely another soul lost in the convergence of the realms?