The thing about the Rifts that can occasionally form when lines of wild magic through the vast wilderness of Tirra run hot, is that they sometimes let local entities and beings fall through from Tirra to Elsewhere.

They can even more occasionally let entities from somewhere else fall into Tirra.

That seems to be what is happening here, near a ninefold-shrine with torii, altars, and symbolic binding ropes around a slightly (un)holy formation of long aged concrete and steel that once held Imperial age wonders. It's empty now except for the lingering agony and despair that forms cursed energy, and that is what she is currently spending her efforts on.

The Light of the Gods shines through her, making her whole body glow slightly, and her censer glow brighter, as she paces around the complex, reinforcing the seals that keep it quiescent and slowly evaporating away the malign energy.

So that is what any new visitor will first see: An apparently-human woman in white robes with a blue stole and a censer and other religious paraphernalia, pacing the ward line around an old ruin and glowing slightly.