Batimos, the gods of rot, disease and everything profane, what else can you expect from a deity that rolls around in the much? He swallows his children, makes them pray to him in his belly, and when their use runs dry, he throws them away and replaces them in an instant. The children of those children know no life other than to serve their master, for they know no green pastures or the eternal bounty of life. Suffering is their creed, one they cannot deny, one that is their destiny for their god wouldn't allow for anything else.
And when the heroes came face to face with the chosen of such a god, the nameless queen of rot sitting on her throne, it took no more than a second for them to know that she had to be killed.
"S-something's wrong…" Whispered Mercedes, her voice tainted with fear for once ever since they'd entered the castle. "I don't think the queen, s-she–"
