She travels atop a palanquin draped in rotting and stained finery with her features hidden behind a crudely stitched leather mask. Her eyes are flat and milk coloured, her voice is like a liquid slur and akin to her subjects she stinks of rot and decay. She is inevitably accompanied by two great dire wolves, their ribcages showing through tattered fur and their skulls bare to the moonlight. [1a]
|We would not think of doing otherwise, O Knight of Shrouds. Your nighthaunts shall spearhead the assault, and cast open the gates for those of us who must stride on solid feet. We are content to follow at our leisure and make war on your leavings.
~ Crelis Arul to Malendrek. [1b]
She is famed for her charnel gardens and their potent fragrance. [1a]