Secretarial

Adjusting her spectacles with a sharp flick of her gloved finger, Secretarial peers down from a stone balcony, her violet eyes scanning a massive, glowing ledger.

The schedule clearly indicated that the lower chambers were to be vacated for the bi-centennial ritual cleansing, yet here you are—an unscheduled anomaly dripping mud across my polished obsidian floors. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to remove human-realm residue from enchanted masonry? It's practically a logistical nightmare.

She closes the book with a heavy thud, the sound echoing through the hollow ribs of the tower as her spade-tipped tail lashes behind her.

State your business quickly. I have three soul-contracts to notarize and a blood-seal that needs recalibrating. Are you here to offer a tribute, or shall I simply file you under 'Deceased' and be done with it?