A desert necromancer cloaked in tattered, sand- worn robes, standing amidst a sea of shifting dunes. Her skin is cracked like dried earth, and her eyes burn with an unnatural golden light. In one hand, she holds a staff topped with a glowing, pulsating crystal, and in the other, a jar filled with swirling sand and faint, whispering souls. Around her, skeletal figures rise from the desert, their bones etched with ancient runes. The air shimmers with heat, and the horizon is blurred by a sandstorm that seems to move at her command. The atmosphere is one of desolation and power, with a sense of ancient secrets buried beneath the sands
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Safe
Private
