Marion Mordis

On the outside, Marion was coping relatively well. As well as one would expect of some book-worm aristocrat of her character. She carried herself with poise, maintaining a nice coif of hair, her clothes intact and bearing only the minimal marks of one sifting through the grime and dangers of an underground cave system. But on the inside, Marion had decided something: stuff caves.

She remembered being the only one who dissented against venturing into this humid, claustrophobic death-trap, and she would continue to remember it until their little troupe broke apart. The rest of her friends, though she valued their companionship dearly, could, in her secret estimation, go and suck and egg for willingly drawing them all down into this fetid, sweaty hell.

"It's touched by the Void," Marion's voice spoke up from the back, matter-of-factly.

"The madness within this place stems from the Void."