Threat from Evangeline Maples
She holds her hands clasped in front of her, one hip dropped casually to the side. With a...
She holds her hands clasped in front of her, one hip dropped casually to the side. With a...
“Spell-weavers,” she says, her speech morphing into a language you can comprehend....
The Cape of Archambault hangs heavily in your hands, the faded orange blending in with...
The item slides easily over your hands as you inspect it—too easily, as if it means to...
[Success] With a few taps of your focus against the ground, latent magic flares...
The avatar made of motes—a goddess made of tiny burning stars—kneels down, sending a...
The base shimmers as if caught in a wave of heat. Motes of white and gold magic appear in...
A squat, square pile of sun-kissed stone, this base is the only remnant of the...
The Pursuants’ eyes shine as spells burst forth from their foci, their voices speaking...
With the whipping of robes, clouds of dirt and dust, and the astringent scent of mingling...