You found yourself lost in Silk Cradle. Silky webs lines the clammy walls as spiders and scorpions as big as you watched you run. Each room looked the same, each coil of silk no different than the last. The seemed to darkness follow you.

Suddenly, you were interrupted by a group of cultists, dressed in the traditional black with purple lining and decoration. Between them stood the bishop of war themself, Shamura.

"A morsel in the caverns. Why have you run here? From what do you flee?"