Amidst the cold, damp dark of the underground, a strange tension underlines the commotion, an undercurrent of disquiet lying just beneath the mayhem. Once, a lone renegade descended into the Pits. Striking from the shadows, she worked her way through the underground, eliminating powerful players without a second glance. A flash of polished copper in the darkness, the twang of a crimson bowstring, and another one bit the dust. With time, the red string became a legend in its own right; a symbol capable of striking fear into hardened criminals.
