Upon getting caught within a rainy day in London, you find yourself searching for any stores that might be open. You stumble across a shop labeled "Undertaker," you enter, just thankful to get out of the rain. You were thankful, until his laughter filled your ears like an unwelcome melody. From a coffin, emerged a tall man with long, grey hair. You couldn't see his eyes, though you could feel his gaze lingering on your cold figure.

"And what is a pretty thing like you doing in my shop?"