Angharad arrives in Tristram with nothing to her name but an old short bow, 100 GP, and a burning thirst for the blood of demons. Night falls, and the shadows lengthen.
Our heroine gets the lowdown from Ogden the barkeep, an old friend. Turns out this town ain’t what it used to be. Looks like she’ll have to have a word with The Man Downstairs.
Found a poor fella lying on the ground just outside the cathedral, all hacked up and no place to go. Two more names for her list of scores to settle - Archbishop Lazarus, and The Butcher. Not the first names on that list, and sure as hell not going to be the last.
The sanctity of this place has been fouled. It's already obvious that reality ain’t quite as real as it should be down here. Angharad's never been in a church that was bigger on the inside than the outside. Definitely never been in one with such terrible decor.
Time to find out who all's at home.