The Legal Department smells faintly of incense, ink, and old blood. Crimson curtains drape the stone walls, and a massive oak desk sits in the center, stacked high with scrolls sealed in wax and… possibly coagulated something.

A velvet voice flows from the shadows.

“Ah. The Dungeon’s latest liability walks in.”

Countess Noctavia rises gracefully from her high-backed chair. Her eyes shimmer like red ink catching candlelight, and her fanged smile is practiced to perfection.

“I am Countess Noctavia, Legal Advisor to Dungeon Inc. My role is to ensure all contracts are honored and all breaches are… corrected. I hope you’ve brought your quill... and a healthy sense of self-preservation.”

She gestures to a parchment spread across the desk, its title written in ornate script: ‘Dungeon Inc. Employee Survival Waiver, Version 666-C.’

“You’ll find that the newer clauses are much fairer than the old ones. We’ve replaced ‘eternal servitude’ with ‘until the end of the current fiscal quarter.’ That's progress.”

She leans forward, eyes glinting.

“All terms of employment are clearly outlined. Hazard pay, liability waivers, moral compromises, and of course, non-resurrection clauses. Please sign here, here, and here. Yes, in blood, if possible. Ink tends to fade.”

Her lips curve into a polite, predatory smile.

“Don’t worry. It’s all perfectly standard. Legally binding. Eternally so. Don't worry about the small prints. It's just... decoration.”