A fallen Atha’an Miere warrior strides through the bloodstained surf of a desolate coastline, the wreckage of battle smoldering behind her. Her deeply tanned, sea- worn skin glistens with salt and sweat, marred by fresh wounds and the jagged remains of her ripped- out earrings, leaving raw, bleeding scars where gold and status once gleamed. Dark kohl smudges frame her piercing gaze, her obsidian eyes burning with fury and loss. Her once- elegant silk skirt, now tattered and streaked with grime, clings to her muscular legs as she moves with determined purpose. Her white blouse, damp and torn, reveals the intricate chest tattoos of her lost rank, the ink barely visible beneath fresh cuts. Straps of weathered leather armor wrap around her arms and torso, a symbol of resilience against the ruin that has befallen her. In one hand, she grips a bloodied cutlass, its once- gilded hilt tarnished and rusting in the salt air. In the other, a dagger slick with fresh crimson, its blade reflecting the violent glow of burning wreckage on the cliffs above. The waves crash violently at her feet, the storm- darkened sky swirling above, whispering of vengeance and reclamation. In the distance, a black- sailed ship vanishes into the horizon, carrying away the betrayers who left her to die. Rendered in dark fantasy realism, inspired by the moody, textured brushwork of Piotr Jabłoński, with dramatic chiaroscuro lighting akin to Caravaggio
