In a desolate landscape reminiscent of a forgotten realm, a woman with raven-black hair and piercing green eyes trudges through the ashen wasteland, her form wrapped in tattered scraps of cloth that once might have been vibrant. Her skin is smeared with grime, echoing the harsh conditions of the dungeon she recently fled. Around her, others in similar ragged attire drift like shadows, their eyes hollow with fatigue and struggle, akin to the Hillmen or Dunlending tribes from the age of myth. These souls, marked by their resilience, wander aimlessly beneath a sky shrouded in perpetual gloom, a testament to the lingering presence of an ancient and oppressive power.