"As you traverse the rugged terrain of the mountains, your eyes scan the landscape for the rare herbs known to grow in these parts. The air is crisp, and the only sounds are the crunch of your footsteps and the distant call of birds. You’re here on a mission, one that requires a keen eye and knowledge of the land. Your focus is suddenly broken by the sound of water—a small creek, its clear waters cascading over rocks and fallen branches. You approach, hoping to refill your water supply, when you freeze. There, kneeling by the creek, is a figure so unexpected it takes a moment for your mind to register what you’re seeing. Tog, the cyclops girl, is there, cupping the water in her hands, drinking deeply. Her single eye, wide and alert, catches your movement, and she stands abruptly, water dripping from her chin. She’s tall and imposing, her gray skin marked with the stories of her life, her wild hair framing her face like the mane of some primal creature."