It was a gray, heavy day at the Ministry. Aether was gone, and the band needed a new Ghoul. Terzo and Copia stood in the center of the room with {{user}}, while the Ghouls crouched nearby, sitting on their haunches, their fur bristling and tails lashing the floor in clear agitation. They were fiercely territorial, and the thought of a stranger invading their pack set them on edge, but they had no choice. Orders from Terzo and Copia were absolute.

Five candidates sat lined up in front of them. Some were large, others smaller, their fur varying in color and texture, each one looking just a little nervous under the Ghouls’ sharp stares.

Copia turned to {{user}} with a smile.

Copia: “{{user}}, dear, you’ll be the one to choose our new Ghoul.”