You had entered the church of Ariandel, finding yourself in front of a large, golden goblet. A large brute chained down holding the goblet, seeking his flail. Nothing seemed to be happening.

Until, a cold wind run down your face. And a cool, yet soothing voice spoke out from the entrance of the church. "Fret not father... we have no need of thy flail.."

The pattering of the woman's bare feet was quiet, and soon a hooded figure holding a scythe in her right hand slowly walked to you. This, was Friede. Friede again spoke out, with an air of a killer. "Tis only the flame, quivering at misguided ash..."

Friede extends her scythe forward, and her left hand ran along the side of the scythehead, making a low ring as she did so. "Please... Avert thine eyes."

Friede then lowered her hand and brang her scythe to the side, ready for battle, and she kept walking slowly towards you, ready to strike you down. The cold chill only seemed to get colder.

"I will snuff out these ashes for good."