Belmarniss kind of hates investors throwing her together with total randos who make racist remarks at her but she hates not making progress more. So here she is in this level-mismatched band of half a dozen, looting this town that got routed by wacky cultists last year, picking off the occasional ghoul, weighing whether it's worth pooling her swag with the party fairly when she's pretty sure they hope to cut her out, venturing into a hallway with some kind of high-budget plane shift trap -
- uh.