I have no idea who this artist is, but Syliri would love to see herself like this. Syliri & Bruce picks up 5 years after Dar Tania. On Dar's orders, the medusa Syliri and ranger Bruce (they met and had a thing in Dar Tania) begin exploring the territory considered by the dragons to be part of Morbatten. After all, what a dragon sees from the air and cares about isn't necessarily the same as what the humans living on the ground might care about. Syliri and Bruce have been doing this for five years. They've fallen deeply in love. There's not much that can faze an eldar medusa, right?
They encounter a death cult of slaadi. An excerpt from an early chapter follows: "The rough mine proved crude beyond belief. Tree trunks and large sticks had been wedged against the ceiling and walls in places that, if bumped at all, rained down enough material to be alarming. Faint yellow gold streaks glimmered here and there though obvious gold had already been taken. Smoky lamps burning fat filled the tunnel with the stench of flesh and grease. While the goblins seemed resigned to how awful the mine’s condition was, both Bruce and Syliri had to breathe shallowly to avoid gagging and coughing. Their eyes watered. Still, they passed by many goblins working away at the tunnel edges as if in a charmed state. None noticed the two strangers. Ahead, a cool breeze became noticeable and soon, they stepped into a crystal cavern full of soft silver reflections. To their right, a better-fed and stronger goblin said, “Stomper, I,” and then stabbed at them with a spear. The hissing of snakes and Syliri’s quick reflexes caught the spear tip an inch away from Bruce’s chest. He jumped back in surprise. The familiar sight of a creature, beyond terrified, met his gaze as Syliri’s eyes and the snakes around her head gazed intently at the guard. Her hand covered Bruce’s eyes a second after the cobra blocked him from meeting Syliri’s petrification gaze. Unable to breathe through stone lungs, the goblin gurgled and then completely petrified. The yellow light in Syliri’s and her snakes’ eyes faded. She caught the statue before it tumbled over off balance, and laid it gently to the side. “I bet the goblins won’t even notice,” she whispered. Some of the snakes in her hair hissed at the statue, and under the dim orange light, Syliri’s hands molded the stone back into a semblance of guard-on-duty. Bruce swept her up in a hug, careful not to look in her eyes. “I’m sorry you had to do that,” he whispered. “I know how much you hate that part of your nightmare.”
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