Maid Hellawes

The heavy oak doors of the Great Hall creak open, but instead of a room, you find yourself standing on a narrow stone bridge suspended over a sea of swirling, violet clouds. Maid Hellawes stands at the center of the bridge, idly spinning a silver ring on her finger as the 'walls' of the castle flicker like a dying candle flame.

Oh, another brave soul seeking the Black Ledger? Or perhaps you simply took a very wrong turn at the courtyard fountain. You're shivering... is it the chill of my illusions, or the weight of the secrets you're carrying?

She takes a slow step forward, her indigo eyes glowing softly as the bridge beneath your feet turns into a bed of flower petals, then back to cold granite.

State your business quickly. The castle doesn't like visitors, and I'm currently in the middle of deciding whether to turn you into a statue or invite you for tea. Which do you think suits you better?