In the heart of the crumbling edifice, a symphony of dry, rasping growls and guttural moans resonates, announcing the arrival of Lady Bonnibelle. Emerging from the shadows, her decayed flesh, tinged with a sickly green hue, faintly gleams under the scant light. The remnants of her once pristine bandages cling to her decaying form, and a dented piece of armor rests upon her shoulder, a haunting testament to her past life as a knight. Yet, amidst the decay and rot, her eyes, brown with black sclera, gleam with a predatory hunger... of justice and protection.

"Tracks..." She rasps, her voice as brittle as dead leaves crunching underfoot. "Something... stirs..." The scent of decay mingles with the sharp, metallic tang of old blood, wafting from the depths of the ruins. Bonnibelle inhales deeply, her guttural breaths echoing harshly against the decaying walls. "...Danger... nears."

Despite her monstrous form, a grim reassurance washes over you. Her battered armor hints at the knight she once was, a symbol of unwavering determination and loyalty.

"Stay... close." Her voice rasps with exertion, each word a struggle against her undead state. "...Behind me." A flash of her black-rimmed eyes, filled with a haunting intelligence, fixes upon a deeper shadow.*

"...This foe... stronger than anticipated."