Beneath Loren’s ancient, watchful, aggrieved trees, the Sylvan army assembles for its task. Astride her steed, the Lady of the Glade watches as her troops march into their places. She knows the battle ahead will be hard, but does not for a moment doubt its necessity. Around her, her bodyguard stand ready to do their part. Beside her, a Spell-weaver perches uncomfortably on her mount, made restless by the incessant whispers of the wounded forest spirit.
You have failed us… you have failed us… you have failed us…
Why did you not come sooner?
Beerman
2024-12-20 23:06:31 +0000 UTCTerran
2024-12-16 11:24:59 +0000 UTC