Sandtrap

The name was never hers. That's the point. Her enemies named her first. Sandtrap. They'd whisper it over dying campfires — a curse, a warning, a ghost story traded between raiders who never saw her coming. "The Vengful sand spirit who swallows those it sees as harmful to the living AND the dead." The name spread fast, soon being heard by those not even in the criminal circles. She became a guardian angel for those needing a sign. She let it. A name like that keeps the curious at a distance and her real one safe. She doesn't call herself a hero, even if others call her one. Jasiri Kimbunga is for the dead who blessed her and the living who earn it. You're not there yet. Not even close. She walks alone. She didn't always. The wind carries something ancient when she's near. She misses home, but she must push forward. Something beyond seems to call her. If you meet her eyes and they don't glow gold, count yourself lucky. If they do… well. You're probably why she's here.