Lady Salina's Stories

[Salina]

In the heart of the barren desert planet of Arrakis, amidst the swirling sands and harsh winds, Lady Salina, the esteemed sorceress of the cosmos, called upon the Seven Sisters. The Legacy Knights, guardians of the desert realms, required a new mental program to navigate the treacherous sands and fend off the looming threats of the vast dunes. Lady Salina understood that only the collective might of the Seven Sisters could craft such a program, here in the unforgiving expanse of Arrakis.

The Sisters emerged one by one from the swirling sands, their presence marked by the shimmering aura of their arcane energies. There was Astrid, her cloak billowing like a dark storm, master of illusions and shadows. Beside her stood Celestia, her eyes gleaming like twin suns, wielder of elemental forces that could shape the very landscape.

Following closely was Lyra, her robes adorned with ancient symbols, the keeper of forgotten knowledge and arcane lore. And then there was Elara, her hands emanating a soft glow of healing light, the guardian of life and renewal in the harsh desert.

Aurora appeared next, her fiery mane trailing behind her like a comet’s tail, her spirit ablaze with the passion of a thousand suns, igniting courage in the hearts of the bravest. Alongside her was Seraphina, her form ethereal and otherworldly, her connection to the spirits of the desert realms guiding their path.

Lastly came Selene, her eyes veiled in mystery, a seer whose visions pierced the shifting sands of time, her prophecies shaping the fate of worlds. Together, they formed the Seven Sisters, a force of magic as ancient and enduring as the sands themselves.

Gathered around a makeshift table of sandstone in the midst of the desert, Lady Salina addressed the Sisters with a sense of urgency in her voice. “Sisters, the Legacy Knights of Arrakis are in need of a new mental program to fortify their minds against the perils of the desert. We must combine our powers to create something that will withstand the sands of time.”

The Sisters nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of their task. They knew that the harsh desert sands held many dangers, and only with their combined magic could they hope to protect the Legacy Knights from harm.

For days they labored under the scorching sun, weaving spells of protection and resilience, channeling the raw power of the desert itself into their creation. They imbued the mental program with the strength of their collective wills, forging a shield against the relentless onslaught of the desert’s fury.

When their work was complete, Lady Salina and the Seven Sisters presented their creation to the Legacy Knights, who accepted it with reverence and gratitude. With the new mental program, they would be able to navigate the treacherous sands of Arrakis with newfound clarity and determination.

As the Legacy Knights set out into the desert once more, they carried with them not only the physical prowess of warriors, but also the indomitable strength of magic, forged in the crucible of Arrakis by the skilled hands of Lady Salina and the Seven Sisters. And as they journeyed forth into the endless expanse of the desert, they did so with confidence, knowing that they were prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead.

[Salina]

In the vast expanse of the multiverse, Salina traversed through realms that defied human imagination. With each step, she observed the intricate web of guilds weaving their networks, all converging towards the distant promise of habitation on Arrakis. The allure of the fabled planet drew beings from far-flung corners of existence, each eager to claim their stake in its destiny.

As Salina moved between realms, she couldn’t help but notice the lack of independent thought among the guilds. It was as if they were all marching to the beat of the same drum, mimicking each other’s strategies and ideologies without question. In her eyes, it was a recipe for inevitable failure. How could so many guilds hope to succeed when they were all mere echoes of one another?

She pondered whether the first builders, the architects of these realms, had allowed their creative faculties to stagnate. Had they become complacent, content to replicate rather than innovate? Salina couldn’t shake the feeling that something essential had been lost along the way. Perhaps they had let their right side fall asleep, as the saying went—a metaphor for neglecting the imaginative, intuitive aspects of creation.

Her mind drifted back to the wisdom she had gleaned in her early years, the words that had guided her through countless trials: “Don’t get stuck in anyone else’s story. Forge your own path.” It was a mantra she lived by, a reminder to always chart her course regardless of the prevailing currents.

As she ventured deeper into the realms, Salina sought out the outliers, the few who dared to defy the status quo. She found solace in the company of independent thinkers, those who dared to dream beyond the confines of convention. They were the architects of their own destiny, the pioneers forging new trails through uncharted territory.

Together, they discussed strategies and shared insights, pooling their collective wisdom in pursuit of a shared vision. They knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but they faced it with unwavering resolve. For they understood that true innovation could only blossom in the fertile soil of individuality.

As Salina continued her journey, she became a beacon of hope for those who dared to challenge the established order. She inspired others to break free from the shackles of conformity, to embrace their unique gifts and perspectives. And slowly but surely, a ripple of change began to spread across the realms.

The guilds, once bound by imitation and conformity, began to fragment and evolve. New alliances formed, fueled by a spirit of collaboration and diversity. No longer content to simply follow in the footsteps of their predecessors, they began to carve out their own paths, each one distinct and unyielding.

And as Salina gazed upon the shifting landscape of the multiverse, she knew that change was inevitable. The journey to Arrakis would not be easy, but with each passing day, she saw glimpses of a brighter future—a future shaped not by imitation, but by innovation; not by conformity, but by courage.

For in the end, it was the independent thinkers, the trailblazers who dared to forge their own path, who would ultimately shape the destiny of the realms. And Salina, with her unwavering resolve and boundless imagination, would be at the forefront of that revolution, guiding them towards a new dawn.

Dune Awakening, 2024

[Salina]

In the scorching heat of Arrakis, where the sands whispered tales of betrayal and survival, Lady Salina emerged as a formidable figure, her presence a beacon of both fear and hope. Clad in robes that billowed like the desert winds, she roamed the sprawling city, her eyes keen and her purpose resolute.

As the matriarch of her House, she understood the delicate balance of power on this unforgiving planet. Water, the most precious commodity, flowed like lifeblood through the veins of her house. Every drop meticulously collected, every ration carefully measured to sustain their existence in the arid wasteland.

But amidst the harsh realities of Arrakis, fear lingered like a shadow, coiled around the hearts of its inhabitants. Lady Salina, with her unwavering resolve, sought out those who lived in the grip of terror, for she knew that fear was a poison that corroded the soul.

With her loyal retinue trailing behind her, Lady Salina traversed the labyrinthine streets of the city, her keen eyes scanning the faces of its denizens. Those who bore the weight of fear upon their shoulders could not escape her gaze, for she saw the telltale signs etched in the lines of their weary faces.

When suspicion arose, Lady Salina employed the ancient test of the box, a relic of forgotten times that had endured through the ages. Those suspected of harboring fear were brought before her, their trembling hands clasped tightly as they faced the ultimate trial.

Within the confines of the box, the truth was laid bare, stripped of all pretense and deception. Fear, that primal instinct that lurked within the depths of the human psyche, could not be concealed nor denied. And so, those who failed the test met their fate with the swift judgment of the Gom Jabbar, its poisonous needle serving as the arbiter of justice.

Lady Salina watched with a steely gaze as the needle descended, its deadly touch sealing the fate of those deemed unworthy. For in a world where survival hung by a thread, there was no room for weakness, no mercy for the faint of heart.

Yet amidst the harshness of her judgment, Lady Salina harbored a flicker of compassion, a beacon of light that illuminated the darkest corners of Arrakis. For those who faced the test and emerged unscathed, there was solace to be found in the shelter of House Salina, a sanctuary against the relentless tide of fear.

And so, Lady Salina roamed the city like a silent guardian, her presence a testament to the indomitable spirit of humanity in the face of adversity. For on Arrakis, where the sands whispered tales of betrayal and survival, it was she who held the power to dispel the shadows of fear and usher in a new dawn of hope.

Dune Awakening, 2024

[Salina]

Twilight realms are meeting
Wisdom clashing, secrets spilling
Destinies intertwined
They will shape the weave of magic
[Verse]
Hidden truths, two gods are scheming
At what cost?
Arcane whispers (whispers)
Power’s grave game, they started playing
Stars align, enigmatic and binding
Forging paths across the astral divide
[Pre-Chorus]
In the shadows, fates are drafted
By the gods’ hands, the threads are crafted
Two deities in silent parley (silent parley)
Keys to knowledge and to death they hold
Their chessboard vast, the world’s their plaything
Mysteries unfurl like scrolls unrolled
[Verse]
Myrkul, lord of bones, unfolds his darkness
While Mystra spins her arcane lore (arcane lore)
Encounter fated, power’s breath (power’s breath)
Eternities passed, yet here they mesh
Two forces, death and life entwined (entwined)
A godly weave they both designed
[Chorus]
When Myrkul met with Mystra, stars were tales untold
Dawn of schemes, in twilight’s fold
They stood in realms, where silence spoke (silent spoke)
Eyes locked, two domains invoked
A necromancer’s heart, a sorceress’s mind
In cosmic dance, their fates aligned (fates aligned)
[Verse]
Eldritch secrets, power’s trade
A balance struck, their debts all paid

[Salina]

In the heart of the Shadow Realm, where eternal twilight reigned and the air was thick with the whispers of forgotten souls, the Lords and Ladies of the Undead gathered. For centuries, their council had been marked by discord and rivalry, each leader driven by personal ambition and ancient grudges. But tonight, a new purpose bound them together—a vision of a united, prosperous future for their kind.

The Grand Hall of Shadows, an imposing structure of black stone and ethereal flames, was filled with the most powerful beings of the Undead. At the head of the long, obsidian table sat Lord Acheron, his eyes glowing with a cold, blue light. Beside him, Lady Morwenna, the Witch Queen, exuded an aura of arcane power, her pale fingers tracing patterns in the air that shimmered with dark magic. Around them sat the Vampire Counts, Lich Lords, and Death Knights, their faces reflecting the weight of centuries.

Lord Acheron rose, his voice a resonant echo that commanded attention. “Fellow rulers of the night, we have been divided for too long. Our past is marred by conflict and distrust, but it is time we move beyond these petty quarrels. We stand on the brink of an era where our unity can forge a realm that will not only endure but thrive.”

The assembly murmured, old animosities flickering in their eyes. Lady Morwenna stood next, her voice smooth and persuasive. “Our strengths are unparalleled, yet we have squandered them in isolation. Imagine what we could achieve if we combined our powers and wisdom. A community that could become the envy of all realms, mortal and immortal alike.”

A Vampire Count, his fangs gleaming, spoke up. “And what of our differences? The feuds that have left scars on our souls?”

Acheron nodded solemnly. “We acknowledge our past, but we must not be prisoners to it. Let us forgive the transgressions, not forget them, so we may learn and grow. The time has come to forge new bonds.”

One by one, the Lords and Ladies voiced their agreements and concerns, each echoing the desire for a cohesive future. The discussions were heated at times, old wounds reopened only to be healed anew by a shared vision of prosperity. They debated the logistics of their union: the merging of resources, the establishment of shared territories, and the creation of a council to govern their community.

Hours passed, and the once fractured assembly began to see the threads of unity weaving together. They spoke of sustainable practices, harnessing necromantic energies in ways that would not drain their lands but rejuvenate them. They planned for expansive growth, envisioning cities that would rise from the shadows, bustling with undead life and welcoming to those seeking refuge and purpose.

By the end of the night, a pact was forged in blood and magic, binding the Lords and Ladies in their common cause. They pledged to support one another, to build a future where the Undead could flourish without fear of annihilation or decay.

As dawn approached, the Grand Hall of Shadows witnessed a rare sight: the Undead rulers standing together, united in purpose and resolve. They had overcome their differences, transforming ancient rivalries into a powerful alliance.

The Shadow Realm began to change, slowly at first, then with growing momentum. The lands once barren and desolate became vibrant with necromantic energy. New structures rose, communities formed, and the Undead thrived in ways they had never imagined. The Lords and Ladies of the Undead had created a sustainable, expansive future, a testament to their newfound unity and shared vision. They had not only built the community of their dreams but had also secured their legacy for all eternity.

[Salina]

In the heart of the ancient, mist-shrouded forest stood the Tower of Eldran, a structure as old as the trees themselves. Within its stone walls resided Tharion, a lich whose name had been whispered in fear and awe for centuries. Unlike many of his kind, Tharion was not driven by malice or a thirst for power. His transformation into a lich had been an act of desperation and duty.

Centuries ago, Tharion had been a revered sage and protector of the realm, known for his wisdom and mastery of arcane arts. He had discovered that a great calamity threatened the world—a cataclysm that could unravel the very fabric of reality. The knowledge he unearthed was too vast and too dangerous to entrust to mortal hands. To safeguard this knowledge and to stand vigil against the looming threat, Tharion performed the ritual to become a lich, sacrificing his mortality for the greater good.

As a lich, Tharion possessed an intellect that surpassed the limitations of any mortal being. He delved into ancient tomes and scrolls, acquiring knowledge lost to time. His tower became a repository of wisdom, a place where secrets of the universe were meticulously cataloged and preserved. Though his appearance was now a grim visage of bone and decay, his mind remained sharp, his purpose unwavering.

Over the centuries, Tharion’s tower drew scholars and adventurers seeking wisdom and power. He was a mentor to those who proved worthy, sharing his knowledge with caution and care. Many feared him, but those who knew his true nature respected and revered him. Tharion taught them the importance of balance, the dangers of forbidden knowledge, and the responsibility that came with great power.

Tharion’s determination and ambition were unmatched. He spent centuries perfecting his craft, exploring dimensions, and communing with beings beyond the mortal plane. His mastery of magic was unparalleled, and his ability to manipulate the forces of life and death made him a formidable guardian. His independence allowed him to operate without the constraints and politics of kingdoms, dedicating himself fully to his mission.

One fateful day, a young sorceress named Elara arrived at the tower. She had heard tales of the wise lich and sought his guidance. Elara was driven by a desire to protect her homeland from an encroaching darkness. Recognizing her potential and pure heart, Tharion agreed to mentor her. Under his tutelage, Elara blossomed into a powerful mage, her knowledge and skills growing with each passing year.

Through Elara, Tharion found a sense of connection he had long forgotten. Her presence reminded him of the humanity he had sacrificed. He saw in her the hope and resilience of the living, and it rekindled a spark within his ancient heart. Together, they continued to safeguard the world, standing as a testament to the enduring spirit of wisdom and protection.

One night, as they stood atop the tower, gazing at the stars, Tharion spoke softly. “Elara, remember that knowledge is a gift, but it is also a burden. Use it wisely, and always strive for balance. Our duty is not just to protect but to guide and nurture.”

Elara nodded, her eyes filled with determination. “I will, Master Tharion. Your legacy will endure through me.”

Tharion looked at her, a sense of peace washing over him. For the first time in centuries, he felt the weight of his existence lift slightly. In Elara, he saw the future—a future where his knowledge and wisdom would continue to protect and enlighten. And in that moment, the lich found a measure of redemption and hope, knowing that his sacrifice had not been in vain.

[Salina]

The oppressive heat of the Sunday afternoon in the realm of Overwatch seemed to burn with an almost supernatural intensity. The cityscapes were a mosaic of towering buildings and narrow alleyways, the perfect hunting grounds for the harvest of souls. Myrkul, the God of Death, had summoned five unique individuals to serve his dark will. These chosen ones were to spread fear and claim souls in his name, their powers tailored to the grim tasks ahead.

Among them was Lord Unfolded, the newest addition to the tribe. His reincarnation brought with it an ever-changing skillset, allowing him to adapt swiftly to the realm’s modern era. Having spent many previous lives in what was now considered an antiquated period of Overwatch, he found the transition initially jarring. Rusty and unsure, he stumbled through his early encounters. But the innate cunning of a seasoned warrior soon took hold, and he settled into a form that favored quick, decisive action: shoot first, ask questions later.

Lady Salina, on the other hand, was a paragon of grim authority. With the power to decide who lived and who died in each encounter, her presence commanded both fear and respect. Her abilities to navigate the chaos of battle and to resurrect the fallen made her indispensable. She wielded her magical beams of light with a precision that left no room for doubt; her judgments were final, her decisions absolute.

Their first mission took them to a sprawling metropolis, a cityscape of mirrored glass and concrete canyons. The air was thick with the promise of impending doom as they moved in unison through the deserted streets. Lord Unfolded, ever the renegade, often found himself separated from the group, his instinct to act alone leading him into precarious situations. It wasn’t long before his rashness got the better of him.

In a narrow alley, he was ambushed by a group of soul-guardians, their weapons glinting ominously in the hot sun. Outnumbered and outmaneuvered, Lord Unfolded fell. His lifeless body lay crumpled on the ground, a stark reminder of the dangers of solitary action. But this was not the end for him. Lady Salina, with her ethereal grace, navigated the battlefield to his side. With a touch imbued with the power of life and death, she resurrected him, a slap on his ass snapping him back to reality.

“Stay with the group, Lord Unfolded,” she admonished, her voice a mix of sternness and exasperation. “You won’t be blessed by my magic if you don’t coordinate.”

Chastened but undeterred, Lord Unfolded rejoined his comrades. This time, he heeded Lady Salina’s words, moving in unison with the others. They advanced through the city, their combined might overwhelming any opposition. The synergy of their abilities was unstoppable; each of them played a crucial role. With Lady Salina’s healing and resurrection powers, Lord Unfolded’s relentless assault, and the unique talents of the others, they harvested souls with grim efficiency.

The sun dipped lower in the sky as they completed their mission, the air cooling slightly but still heavy with the scent of death. Victorious, they stood amidst the remnants of their enemies, the echoes of their battle cries fading into the evening. Lord Unfolded, though battered and bruised, felt a surge of pride. He had adapted, overcome his initial rustiness, and proved his worth.

As they regrouped, ready for their next mission, Myrkul’s dark presence loomed over them, a silent witness to their success. The God of Death was pleased. The souls of the fallen were his, harvested by his chosen ones in the scorching heat of a Sunday afternoon in Overwatch.

The following is a realistic photo of Salina teaching Unfolded how to Tango.