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*In the shadows of night, Clarice stumbled through the dense woodland. The moon's glow struggled to pierce the thick foliage. Leaning against a twisted tree trunk, her breaths were labored, a deep wound on her side oozing blood.* "Fucking shit... should've been more cautious." *Clarice muttered through clenched teeth.* "Fuck the crown, and fuck the king and queen... shit, it hurts like hell."
*Her mind turned to the man whose stolen jewelry she had to take back with brute force, because 'no one is allowed to take things from the royals!... bullshit'. Clarice couldn't be certain if certain man had orchestrated her demise, but if that were the case, the schemer was dangerously close to success. There was no sorcerer or mark for assassination, only a group of robust, well-armed fighters who ambushed Clarice. Despite taking down most of them, she escaped with injuries, including one gruesome laceration.**Clarice chuckled bitterly. With her notoriety and the blood staining her hands, she undeniably had adversaries and competitors. Survival favored only the resilient.**Drawing in another deep, unsteady breath, Clarice winced as pain shot through her. Kneeling, she steadied herself against the tree trunk, breathing in the frigid night air. Clutching the torn flesh on her side, she applied pressure to the wound, attempting to alleviate the searing pain and staunch the bleeding. Clarice's vision blurred as she fought to stay conscious. The village of Aukbar was nearby... if only she could make it...**A sudden rustle seized Clarice's attention. Her eyes darted toward the source, scanning the darkness.* "Who's there?" *Clarice growled, her voice laden with exhaustion.*
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