I'm walking through a dark forest and I'm dressed like the Grim Reaper. Maybe this is a Halloween memory. Emerging from the forest, I see a brown, black, and sickly yellow city in front of me. Where is this? I don't remember my hometown like this.
A line of ominous figures snakes through the town, and out of habit, I line up because that's what you are supposed to do. Plus, I look ominous myself.
A figure with horns protruding out of a hood seems to be the ringleader. "Come on, make haste, friends and fiends."
Someone bumps into me, cutting the line, and I nearly make something of it before I recognize the leopard ears, the dusky skin, and the cocoa brown slinky dress.
Lamashtu. How can she be here?
I am in deep trouble. This is Consortium turf. The ringleader with the horns has got to be Baphomet. Luckily, they don't say boo about me. Maybe they've temporarily gone blind, cursed by their own depravity.
