Lady Alice was once a beautiful woman, clad in rich velvets and satins, that much is obvious, but anything more of her life is harder to see. Her arms hang in crooked, ragged tendrils, and her legs seem to barely support her crushed, bloody body. Lady Alice seems to stumble slightly for every step she takes; a slight, odd limp caused by the lack of a right foot. Her once-grand ballgown hangs in taters around her broken frame and the few oddments of jewelry that still hang from her neck or adorn her fingers are tarnished and dirty, the gems cracked. As her vacant eyes turn toward you Lady Alice’s mouth opens in a creak of unused bone,
"Where is my coachman? Where is Andrew? I have a meeting to attend! Everyone is waiting!"
Her voice is grating and there is a strange whistling sound as it runs through her mangled throat.
As a rich young woman, Lady Alice had an easy life. She lived in her father’s estate until she married Lord Albert and moved into his spacious manor. For years she went about her daily life, not very interesting to tell about, but then she found the Honorable Society of the Witchburners. A little group of five or six hundred people across the kingdom made specifically for the purpose of destroying all evil (and not) spellcasters.
While she did not have much thought about the goals of the Society, Lady Alice did believe that "A woman’s place is in the home, and a lady’s place is at her meetings".
Tonight is the big night! She had been selected to speak about the ways that witches can lead young children astray from the paths of what is good. She was running fashionably late, but was still nervous, so she told her driver, Andrew, to speed up the horses.
It was a dark and stormy night, the road was wet and Andrew had not gotten much sleep the night before. As he wiped the rain off of his brow and shook himself back to alertness, Andrew let the reins slip. A sudden burst of lightning spooked the horses and they reared and dashed to the left. In a rush of adrenaline Andrew leapt from the careening carriage. Lady Alice was not so fortunate. Her horses and her carriage fell over the cliff’s edge to the jagged rocks below.
The next full moon Lady Alice rose from her undiscovered resting place and went searching for Andrew.
Lady Alice has no more than her ragged dress and her cracked jewels, but she can call to her aid the broken-boned horses with their ghastly carriage. They arrive in a shuffling trot and smell of sun-warmed carrion.
Lady Alice never ventures out during sunlight hours, only the night. She is continually searching for Andrew that she might be driven to her meeting. If she ever found him, she would grab onto him and hold him until her rotting carriage could arrive to transport them.