Nearly five hundred years ago, superstition and the sword ruled. It was a time of darkness. It was a world of fear. It was the age of gods—who greedily hoarded the world's magic to themselves, occasionally blessing those that won their favor with artifacts and trinkets. But like the gods themselves, their "champions" were rarely as noble as one might believe.

Legends speak of a true heroine—Xenia the Warrior Princess. The daughter of a great king, she came to reach great renown across the lands through her exploits. She drove off bandits hordes from pillaging villages. She slayed vicious beasts that threatened her kingdom. She bested any bold enough to challenge her in combat. Even the blessed Mirakles, a favored demigod warrior of a powerful sky god, in spite of his enchanted weapons and armor.

This defeat did not carry well with the prideful demigod. Even less so with his arrogant and divine father. So they waged war on Xenia's kingdom. The Warrior Princess lead the charge bravely, but ultimately her soldiers were defenseless against the magical empowered army of Mirakles. Her kingdom was ransacked. Her father murdered. Mirakles offered to make her his bride, a courtesy for her bravery in battle.

Xenia spat in his face and cursed his name.

Humiliated yet again, Mirakles dragged Xenia into the depths of the desert and tossed her into an abyss.  

"Since nothing of this earth can seem to satisfy you. Then may you find pleasure in the depths of hell."

For forty days and forty nights, Xenia traversed the dark abyss. Each day she was accosted by some sort of nightmarish horror that had once thought to be merely myth and legend. A large three headed hound. A snake that could turn people to stone. A flock of inhuman bird creatures with dagger-like feathers. Each day she fought, her desire for revenge fueling her during this grueling gauntlet.

When she reached the darkest depths of the abyss even she could tell that something was strange. The slew of monsters that she had to fight had grown scare. Something powerful lurked within this part of the abyss. Something capable of scaring off the other horrors. That's when she heard the words speak into her mind.

"Free me."

The voice was a smooth baritone that draped over mind like molasses. A part of her wanted to comply with the command. But she knew better. She ignored the voice in her head and set up camp. Day after day, the voice assaulted her mind with visions of the sieging of her kingdom. The voice then spoke of itself. It was a demon named Djinn. The desert had been its home for centuries until it managed to piss off a particular sky god. They fought, but ultimately the Djinn was imprisoned in a vase at the lowest depths of the abyss—where no creature dared to tread.

"Free me." The voice commanded once more. "Free me and I shall shall grant your three greatest wishes."

Hesitant, but seeing no better alternative, Xenia agreed. By following the demon's instructions she unbound the protective seals on the vase and shattered it. From the smashed container a brilliant light burst forth, nearly blinding the woman. When she was finally able to see again Xenia found herself face to face with the demon. Djinn towered over her, almost as if he were a god himself. The demon then extended a hand towards Xenia, but she was too awestruck to take it immediately. 

"I grant your first wish," Djinn spoke as tears streamed down his face and splashed onto the cavern's floor. "Freedom."

As the demon's tears soaked into the earth the whole abyss began to rumble and quake. Layers upon layers of earth beckoned to the demon's will until the sun's rays burst into the abyss.

Thus began the start of Xenia's magical quest to avenge her father and rebuild her kingdom.




The woman's silky voice lingered in the air alongside the fragrant smoke from her pipe. Her mind enthralled by the tale, lulled along by her narrator's alluring voice. A thin bedsheet covered what it could of her naked form as she moved to rest her head on her companion's bare shoulder. On her own shoulder was a black snake tattoo. The mark of the treasure hunter's guild, Viper's Mark.

"That's a story for another time," Kh'mir answered, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Besides, we have business to tend to, Phera."

"And here I thought I was the tease in this relationship," the woman said with a faintly disappointed sigh. She then slid out of the bed and made her way towards the bathroom. "You know there's no harm in simply enjoying a moment for once," she said as she started the shower. "You're too work oriented."

"We've had our fun," Kh'mir said as he rose up from the bed and walked over to a desk. On it were several documents including maps, blueprints, and texts about a magical artifact. "Now it's time we claim our prize."