Date: Leyan, the 19th day of Imaerasta, in the year 5118
Location: Fenog's Regulars Lodge, Icemule Trace
Witness: Logeerkamer Nakahi Faendryl
You remove a blackish grey petrified wood mask inset with chips of bone and shadowglass from in your zombie-shaped purse.
Speaking softly to your petrified wood mask, you say, "Ebon Gate."
You set the petrified wood mask carefully onto your face. It molds to your features like a second skin.
A strange, slightly dizzy feeling overcomes you. You feel as light as silk, or a feather, or a wind sprite. The world spins and twirls away beneath you as you spread your arms to the wind's embrace. You feel nothing, hear nothing, see nothing but the rush of air all around you....
You awaken flat on your back. When you open your eyes, faint stars flicker around everything before fading away.
You sit up.
You softly say, "What happened..."
Turning to stare directly at you, Jastalyn says,"When centuries have slain the manticore of the spirits, the blademaster of the moonlight will live in song and deed. Throw your lot with that one if you fear to be forgotten. For one with spread wings, moonlight is not unconquerable. Then, Jastalyn's eyes roll back in her head, and she collapses to the floor as she passes out.
You softly say, "Interesting."
Location: Fenog's Regulars Lodge, Icemule Trace
Witness: Logeerkamer Nakahi Faendryl
You remove a blackish grey petrified wood mask inset with chips of bone and shadowglass from in your zombie-shaped purse.
Speaking softly to your petrified wood mask, you say, "Ebon Gate."
You set the petrified wood mask carefully onto your face. It molds to your features like a second skin.
A strange, slightly dizzy feeling overcomes you. You feel as light as silk, or a feather, or a wind sprite. The world spins and twirls away beneath you as you spread your arms to the wind's embrace. You feel nothing, hear nothing, see nothing but the rush of air all around you....
You awaken flat on your back. When you open your eyes, faint stars flicker around everything before fading away.
You sit up.
You softly say, "What happened..."
Turning to stare directly at you, Jastalyn says,"When centuries have slain the manticore of the spirits, the blademaster of the moonlight will live in song and deed. Throw your lot with that one if you fear to be forgotten. For one with spread wings, moonlight is not unconquerable. Then, Jastalyn's eyes roll back in her head, and she collapses to the floor as she passes out.
You softly say, "Interesting."