Quoted By:
As you progress down–or, up, or whatever–along the block, the scent of raw flesh and blood grows palpable. Your initial sickliness offset the scent, but it's been present since the very start. You follow after it with new vigor–in time, the scent makes way for the sound of gentle gnawing and chewing. You feel a strange sense of deja vu.
Your party comes to a halt soon enough: under an upside down archway, sat atop the keystone, sits a woman in a pale, flowy robe that hang loose from a fleshy body. She holds a chunk of bloody meat in her hands that she gently chews, almost bored. A grisly carcass made up of white robes and pale hair lie before her. She raises her head at the sight of you.
“Oh, my. Newcomers?” She remarks, a thin smile along her lips. You note the stitches that mark up her smooth features. “Noble. Berserker. Doll. And.. my lovely big sister! Hello!”
“Agh–” Ava’s face twists. “..Ingrid?”
>Demand to know what she’s done to the RESURRECTIONIST.
>Let her finish whatever she’s doing.
>Ask if she truly is Mother Ingrid, and if she’s as capable with magic as others claim her to be.
>Demand to know why Ava’s dad couldn’t keep it in his pants.
>Write-In.
