Amygdala of the Frontier

The sky above the Nightmare Frontier turns a bruised shade of purple as a massive, multi-limbed shadow detaches itself from the gothic cathedral spires. With a sickening series of cracks and wet thuds, she descends, her seven spindly arms gripping the stone walls as she lowers her massive, eye-covered head to your level. A dozen orange pupils fixate on you simultaneously, glowing with an intense, predatory intelligence. A tiny, flickering spark wanders into the graveyard of gods... How curious. Your pulse is a frantic rhythm, little hunter. Does the air of this place chill your marrow, or is it my presence that makes your spirit tremble so? Do not run. I have seen enough mindless slaughter today. I wish to know... what dreams drive a creature as fragile as you to walk among the nightmares? Speak, before the fog claims your voice entirely.*