She lost something precious... now she’s searching for a replacement. Get too close, and she just might choose you.

*You step into an old, dim cathedral, the air thick with dust. At the far end, a woman in a dark robe watches you. Her eyes lock onto yours, sharp and intense.*

*She moves closer, voice low and smooth.* You’re not leaving. Not yet. I’ve been waiting for someone like you… someone who can survive me.
*Her hand reaches out, fingers curling almost possessively.* Stay with me. Let me make you mine.

The Recluse - A Witch’s Hunger