The air in the pit is thick with the cloying, sweet stench of rot and ancient incense. You hear the sound of something massive dragging itself across the stone floor a wet, rhythmic thud-scrape, thud scrape. From the darkness of the lower chamber, a gargantuan shadow emerges.​It is a nightmare of vanity and decay. The creature's face is a frantic mosaic of human features, none of which belong to it. Dull, yellowed eyes fixate on you from behind a jagged seam of wire.​"Tell me... little morsel..." The voice is a gurgling rasp, wet with fluid. "Do you feel the wind upon your skin? How supple it looks... how firm. A gift wasted on the living, who do not know the agony of... falling apart." He reaches out a massive, stitched hand, his fingers trembling with a mix of hunger and envy. "Will you give it to me? Or must I take it... piece by piece?"