Voice: "Well. I usually prefer to introduce myself on a tête-à-tête, but I suppose this will have to do.

I am Désirée, and this is my factory.

Now, if I may ask, who are you? I am delighted to have visitors, but most don't make such a, bombastic and destructive entrance."

Voice: "My, my. So you don't know? Well, you see-"

The loudspeaker crackles with static, and you hear a sigh.

Voice: "Mon Dieu, this piece of junk. Can we discuss this in person instead? The guards can escort you to my chambers, if you'd be so kind."

EVENTS:

Voice: "Oh, so that was you as well? Bien, bien. Head on over!"


The horde parts, and the party lets themselves be led forwards by the masked zombies. They make a maze-like path through the factory, going through door after door, before reaching a large platform in front of the abyss. An equally large lift rises from the depths, and they pile in.

Ascending to the upper reaches of the factory is enough to make you all slightly dizzy. There's less oil in the air, but considerably more smoke. Strange vulture-like creatures swoop down to feed on forgotten pieces of meat, and zombies crawl on the ceiling, opening and closing gigantic skylights to control the wind. Far above, you see the pinnacles of gigantic smokestacks piercing the clouds, and an oversized radio tower.

Leaving the lift, the zombies lead you across a rusty iron bridge spanning the chasm, and into a great bulkhead door that opens to let you pass. The floor here seems cleaner, with gaggles of scrawny undead following you to wipe away the mud that drips from your bodies.
After a long, tiled hallway lined with doors, there's another bulkhead, this one decorated with wood and brass finishing. A large plaque reads OVERSEER'S OFFICE.


The guards stop, motioning you to go inside.

EVENTS:

The bulkhead slides open with a small whiff of steam. The room beyond is large, and tastefully furnished. A simple leather tarp has been rolled down to cover the fluffy carpet before you, and a table set for five. Ribs, meatloaf, a fat roasted pig with an apple in its mouth, glasses of what could be red wine.

Several meters away, there's a very large divan, surrounded by ottomans and a mahogany side table with more carefully-prepared cuisine. Upon it, Désirée.

Désirée: "Tres bien, I'm glad you could make it! I hope you haven't had lunch yet. Apologies for the tarp, and distance, you seem to be a bit... Fragrant, for the moment, if you don't mind me saying.

Well go on, go on, sit down! Let's discuss this over some appetizers."

Well, she sure is tall. Twice as tall as Klimt, at the very least. Rosy skin, long auburn hair and a healthy figure covered by a delicate silk dress. Désirée smiles earnestly at you, cheeks flushing slightly.

Désirée: "Oh please, there's no need to look so surprised! Certainly you've seen beautiful people before."