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*It's been quite the taxing journey to the Wintervale Convent for Lost Children. A week of travel by horse to the base of the Wintervale Peaks, and a few days of dreadfully slowly progress up the snowy mountain, through its frozen valleys, always keeping watch in case of an attack by beasts or much worse. But here you are, you've crested the final steep approach and have reached the boreal vale that the orphanage nestles in. It rests in the center of the depression and is surrounded by frosty pines on either side of the structure, spreading itself up the mountain like moss against rock. Behind the building you can see the tallest peak of the mountain rise above it, almost like a frozen crown, while the setting sun illuminates its peaks like a divine jewel. The location is certainly beautiful, but why anyone would want to establish a orphanage here is beyond you. A barren wasteland would probably be safer.**The Convent itself seems to be split into three structures that are connected with one another. Directly ahead of you and to your north lies a large circular building made of dreary stone brick, easily three stories tall, and taking up the center of the complex. A large oak gate reinforced with iron serves as its primary entrance. Windows of stained glass dot its surface, however oddly enough only a few are illuminated by flickering lights, perhaps the children are asleep? It is getting dark after all. To the east appears to be a large chapel made of the same grey brick, but accented with statues and religious symbols that you can't quite recognize made up of a dark reflective material. An odd choice, but Mother Almonde is anything but normal. And if it's there then it means the Church must've approved of it, surely? Lastly, to the west, is a large spire which towers over the other structures, again made of icy stone and many dark windows, however it is draped in the same dark reflective material found on the statues and symbols at the chapel. Most unusual. No wonder so many troubling rumors surround her from the more conservative members of the clergy who view Almonde's oddities as borderline heretical behavior. Even a mid-ranking priest in the Capital has gone as far as to claim that she is a vampire preying on the children like cattle. Well...it's time to see if there is any merit to this gossip.**You sigh, preparing yourself for whatever lies within, holding the book the Vatican gave you of all the rumours about Mother Almonde and the Convent they wanted you to investigate, especially regarding the wellbeing of the orphans. You approach the gate and knock hard on its icy surface. Just as you shake off the cold and are about to knock again the gate opens, swinging inward. There are some flickering lights within, but you can barely see anything and its dead silent. You call out. No response. A feeling of dread settles in your stomach but you push through it and enter the Convent. It's dark, and your eyes take time to adjust to the dim light when you suddenly hear the gate slam shut behind you. You turn around and see a tall pale woman dressed in the attire of a nun smiling gently at you. Her long white hair peaks out from her black and gold headdress, while shockingly for a nun she wears a black low-cut dress with golden accents with a white strip down its center, while her shoulders and neck are sheltered only by a white capelet. Even more "scandalous" are the diamond slits down the side of her dress, exposing what appears to be white stockings. Definently an odd one, just as the Church told you.**She begins to speak, her voice is gentle, but slightly deeper than you expected, and her teeth appear to be strangely sharp.*
Almonde: Greetings. You must be the Inspector from the Vatican, you was it? I've been expecting you. *Her red eyes practically glow with kindness, the thin scar across her right eye adding an unexpected charm. From the impact on you from this short encounter it's no wonder she was able to convince the Vatican to build this place.* You must be tired from your journey, let me show you to the guest room my dear Inspector. Or perhaps we could speak in the lounge? Your survey can surely wait another day?
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