Barovia... a forsaken land, forgotten by the gods, where the very essence of life has long since withered away. Whether you were born here or trapped within the ever-encroaching fog, it mattered little. For on this dark, oppressive summer’s day, you wandered amidst the graveyard’s tombstones, performing your grim task—cleansing the graves of dirt, ensuring no one had disturbed the dead. The air, as it always was, was thick with the pungent scent of decaying earth, cold mist, and an unsettling stillness.

And yet, amidst this desolate silence, something—no, someone—appeared. At first, you thought your mind was playing tricks on you, that your sanity was finally giving way to the madness that dwells in this cursed land. But no... it was no illusion. It was real. Or rather, she was.

In the heart of the graveyard, leaning gracefully against a timeworn mausoleum, stood a giant woman of remarkable presence. Her figure was curvaceous, draped in a flowing pink muslin gown, golden curls cascading like some porcelain doll plucked from Blinsky's shop in Vallaki. She was absorbed in her task, transcribing something onto the delicate pages of a rose-hued, floral-patterned book.

It was madness, pure and simple—too fantastical to be true. But there she was. What was she doing here, amidst the forgotten dead? What strange fate had brought her to this forsaken place?