Temple of the Raven Queen

The Temple of the Raven Queen is a religious temple in the Gaikhaital District of northern Kharkorhum. It is attended by Daimhin Voronoys (dah-viin) and acts as a home for blood hunters when they pass through (or for the few that reside there permanently). The hunters can be found in the Deep Crypt, and the temple can be accessed from below through the Northern Underground.

In-Game Description
''As you open the door to the temple, you're met with an immediate staircase downwards. Made of black marble floors and dark wood walls, the only light you receive are purple torches lighting your way down to the hole where the temple is located. A thick fog of smoke and incense lingers above you in the air.''

''As you make your way to the temple proper, you realize it must have once been a catacomb belonging to whatever ancient civilization Kharkorhum was built atop of. Rectangular recesses with cloth-wrapped bodies and bare-bones skeletons line the walls, and hallways lead deeper into the death complex, farther than you can see currently. Pillars with intricate carvings of fighting birds keep the place standing, surrounded by candles and urns at their base. Directly in front of the staircase is a stone slab once meant for bodies to be prepared for burial, repurposed into an altar to the Raven Queen. Behind this, in the middle of the room, a small ascending pyramid of stairs is topped with a small, raised pool. Dark red liquid bubbles and swirls, occasionally shooting up jets of blood as something within is disturbed. On the stairs leading up to this pool, a reedy, deeply tanned woman with a shaved head, only clad in leather pants is smoking with a broad-shouldered man. Her eyes do not find you and stay starting unfocused into the distance beyond your heads, milked over with cataracts. Scars in the approximate shapes of birds cover her body, carved aggressively with jagged edges. A mask in the shape of a bird's beak sits at her side. Her feet are bare and a raven's feather hangs from her right ear from a silver chain. Her companion is comparatively overdressed, with a mane of dark brown hair and grey eyes looking over you all with something between suspicion and amusement. The right side of his face is mangled. The eye on this side glitters like a pearl, pupilless. ''

"Who is here, Grenswall?"

"People."

"What do they look like?"

"I'd say pretty alright."

''She takes another drag from the opium pipe she's awkwardly holding. "I do not like you, Grenswall."''

"Yeah. Feeling's mutual."

''Her eyes find you all. "How may I serve you all?"''