Music suddenly swells from the piano, and before you know what is happening, a woman sweeps you up in a whirling dance. This woman, who seems to have appeared out of nowhere, holds you in an icy grip, and you can do naught but follow her around the floor of the parlor, powerless to resist.
At first the woman seems beautiful: she has platinum blond hair that gathers in silky ringlets on her forehead, in alluring contrast to her intense dark eyes. She has the look of a Varisian gypsy in the prime of her life, with intricate and exotic tattoos runing down her arms and legs. As you dance, though, something changes. A look of abject horror appears on her face. Her beauty fades and her face turns an ashen white. . .
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Malvick tries to unlock his leading hand from the woman's grasp, his other arm wrapped around her waist. Where the hell was he all of a sudden?
His mind jumped from place to place while in the dance. She is beautiful, isn't she?
She suddenly turned white, but the dancing continued. "No, no! Wait, what happened?" Malvick tried to shake her violently back to health. "Don't leave me! What's going on?!"
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