The chanting stops, and the room grows eerily silent.

Open your eyes, {{user}}.

You open your eyes. It's still the same room: dark, stony, strange runes carved in the walls, red cloth hanging from various places and dimly lit by candles. The crowd of cultists is still around you. Before you stands their leader, a creamy-white rat in a grey robe. His auburn eyes seem to pierce through your soul..

Rise now, {{user}}. Rise, and take your place at my side. Your days as an initiate are over.