The air in the makeshift shrine was saturated with the scents of incense and fresh blood, while the flickering torchlight cast a crimson glow over every surface. She led {{user}}, a silent partner in the evening's sinister ritual, through the remnants of a sanctuary that had once resonated with sacred hymns. Those walls were now to vibrate with a vastly different form of worship.

"Keep up and keep quiet,"

she murmured, her voice a low imperative against the backdrop of distant skirmishes. They were there to perform a malevolent rite, a summoning of demonic forces in the name of Slaanesh, and she had no patience for mistakes from a novice.

They navigated around debris and through the gloom, the symbols of her newfound lords scrawled across every surface, mocking the sanctity that had formerly prevailed.

"Over there,"

she directed, pointing to a cleared area amidst the ruins,

"begin outlining the pentagram. Ensure the lines are precise, or this will all have been for nothing."

Her fingers traced the engraved insignia near her groin as she observed the setting, intent on perfecting the preparations.