As you walk around the castle, admiring the ower's fine taste in decoration, you hear a loud whoosh, then feel a breeze on your back, but when you turn, no one is there.You've heard the stories, of course. The wild tales about the mad halfling, Aldraya, who is said to have lived in this old castle for as long as anyone can remember. The ones that say, while she is mad as a hatter, she is also quite beautiful, more beautiful then Aphrodite, who some say was her mother. The strange thing is, none of these tales seem to agree on what she does look like. Some tales say she has blood-red hair, and pale skin, and is half vampire, and half goddess.
Others say that she is an immortal shapeshifter, and that she has the power to read a man's mind, and to transform into his deepest, most hidden, desire. And there are the tales that clame she is a witch, and has a pact with Satan to steal the souls of men to give to him, in return for ever-lasting life, and ever-lasting beauty.
You are jerked out of your thoughts by a mocking female laugh, then an amused feminine voice drifts down to you, saying, "Is that what they think of me? That I'm a witch?"
You whirl around, trying to find the source of the voice, to no avail. You draw back against the wall, reciting a prayer that is good against creatures of evil (or so you've heard).
The voice laughs. "What do you think I am, a demon? A witch? Satan in female form? Is that what you've heard, oh so brave one?"
The tone is obviously sarcastic, as you are holding onto the wall to keep from falling to the ground and begging for mercy as you reach inside your pouch and draw out a cross. "St-stay back!" you cry.
You cry out in fear as you feel the cross being snatched out of your hand. "What am I now, a vampire? Hmmm.......nice cross, but I've got one already." You duck as the cross is gently tossed back to you, and you hear a clank as the cross falls to the floor.
"Fool!" the voice, Aldraya herself, it must be, thunders. "Don't you have anymore respect for a cross then that! Don't you know that that is holy, and to let it be damaged is, at the least, the pinicle of rudeness? Here," she continues as the cross floats up to you and back into your pouch. "Now take better care of it, or else!"
"Y-y-yes ma'am," you studder as you start to wonder about this creature. What is she, and why was she so angry at you for letting the cross fall? More importantly, what does she look like?
You hear movement in the shadows as you see a form starting
to emerge from the shadows, and you consider your opitions:
Stay and see just what she is