While the party continued down the hall, their footsteps were muted by the song, growing ever louder as they neared the source. A faint purple light flickered around a corner, and as the party rounded it, they found themselves stepping into a large open room. A purple brazier burned at the far end, embedded into the wall, a half-circle bowl burning with violet flames. A pale figure in ragged garbs stood with her back to the group, still singing her song as they entered. As she turned to face them, the song continued, and the group could see that it was not her own mouth that sung the notes, but a series of ghostly faces that flickered in the air beside her, singing haunting melodies while she turned her own ghastly visage upon the crusaders.
Where once might have been a beautiful woman was now the visage of death. Her face was pale and sunken, and her eyes were pure white. Her long black hair was tangled and messy, and the tattered red of the clothing she wore seemed drained and muted, the clothes practically hanging off of her nearly skeletal frame.
As she opened her mouth, an ear piercing scream echoed from her throat, the sheer noise being enough to physically pain those who heard it. But amidst the white noise was a sentence, forced through the wail as if by great effort.
"I am Ashara, queen of the empty throne. Wailer of the darklands, once the Morrigan, now the Queen of the Banshees. You have trespassed upon my domain. Who dares enter my chamber?"
