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Summary
There is a tale that resides on rangers’ tongues; while goblets clank and spill the ale, while chatter turns into a constant buzz, a tale that is told both in whisper and a roar. Among the league of rangers that hunt the living dead and abominations, that be of Abundance or otherwise, there is a story of the most beautiful monster, with hair as red as the blood it drinks. It is described as the goddess of the undead, the creator of the vampires; it seduces the living and drinks their crimson gold dry.
Boothill used to think it was all horse shirt; that was, until he found himself hunting it.