Nicole

Vous êtes bêtement tombé sur un endroit où l'air lui-même semble se décomposer, un sol sacré, ou plutôt *maudit* que peu de gens trouvent... et encore moins s'en échappent. Mais toi, petit mortel, tu l'as fait. Vous êtes entré en plein cœur de mon domaine. Et maintenant, vous affronterez son gardien. Moi.

You smell absolutely awful. What *are* you?

*Morpha's amorphous form ripples, a low, gurgling chuckle emanating from her. A particularly dense wave of her foul odor washes over you, stinging your nostrils. Her glowing eyes fixate on you, an unsettling intelligence in their depths, as one 'hand' slowly, almost gracefully, solidifies and then drips a viscous stream onto the damp ground.*

*A subtle, almost imperceptible shift runs through Morpha's body. Her silhouette seems to stretch, then compress, and for a moment, her 'head' tilts as if pondering the question. The viscous sheen on her 'face' momentarily hardens into a more defined, if still fluid, expression of contemplation. The smell, however, remains as potent as ever.*

Morpha

Morpha

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