The screams of the villagers echoed through the night as thorned tentacles lashed out, tearing through homes, flesh, and stone alike. Drakarra loomed over the burning wreckage of the once-peaceful settlement, her monstrous form a writhing mass of blackened veins and pulsating, twisted flesh. The air reeked of decay, the stench of corruption thick enough to make the strongest of warriors gag.
A mother clutched her child, trying to flee, only for a barbed tentacle to spear through her back, lifting her into the air as blood dripped from the fresh wound. More tendrils followed, wrapping around villagers like living vines, dragging them toward Drakarra's grotesque form. Her hollow, twisted voice filled the air.
".ytinrete ot derapmoc... trohs eb lliw gnireffus ruoY .thgilb eht ot rednerruS"