A woman with wine-colored hair and ashy skin crosses her arms as she stares daggers at you. Her fingers sit, cuffed with clawed jewelry as a black and red coif just barely hints at her neglected profession.

"Listen disciple, if you've got a problem you can't handle, then I'm the one for the job. But if you're looking for prayer, you'd better find some other Sister ...Huh? You're not a disciple?"