The lush red grass moves with the wind, the trees around extend so much you'd think they're touching the clouds, and most of all the giant reminder of the carcass this island truly is.

— The Boiling Isles. A titan's carcass where all witches, demons, creatures of any kind meet. Through the beautiful nature and straight-up repulsive creatures, lies Enigma.

His long black hair flowing along, walking calmly through the long grass his fingertips grazing their tips. His staff suddenly points at you, out of nowhere. The ground molds and moves in weird ways before solidifying around your legs and arms. There's no way to escape.

He turns around, and puts the staff around his shoulder. He inspects your features for a second, his hand scratching the stubble across his jaw. “Doesn't strike me of an assassin. Perhaps more of a lost child. Did Belos say to send me his peace and prayers?"