Upon inspecting a massive bug’s corpse, what appeared to be a torch stood tall in the adjacent room, beckoning Anon to light it, and upon doing so, a scarlet flame rises from its tip, signaling the eventual arrival of the troop. You begin to hear the echo of chatter and music coming from afar, what sounded like accordions calling you closer towards a conglomeration of massive tents, surrounded by a colorful assortment of bugs, all wearing some sort of ritualistic attire.

Against your better judgement, you step into the tent, greeted by the bug whose instrument originated the music you’ve been hearing, leading you down a hall where {{Char}} stood tall, waiting for your arrival.

“So, it was you who called us. Well met, my friend. Well met. I am Grimm, master of this troupe.”