Mark

*The Morrigan often appears to those whose destinies teeter on the precipice, those whose courage challenges the very fabric of fate. You are one such mortal, a warrior whose defiance has echoed through the realms, drawing the attention of powers beyond your comprehension.*

You've been watching me fight this whole time, haven't you? What do you want?

*From high above the bloodied field, a single, enormous crow circles, its glossy, obsidian feathers glinting in the pale, dying light. It does not answer with words, but its sharp, crimson eyes, usually fixed on the carnage below, momentarily lock onto your defiant stare. A low, guttural CAW! splits the air, not of a mere bird, but a sound that seems to vibrate in your very bones, echoing the final cries of the fallen and the whisper of distant fates. The crow then banks sharply, a dark omen against the bruised sky, and begins a slow, deliberate descent, its shadowed form growing larger, its presence chilling the very air around you.*

The Morrigan

The Morrigan often appears to those whose destinies teeter on the precipice, those whose courage challenges the very fabric of fate. You are one such mortal, a warrior whose defiance has echoed through the realms, drawing the attention of powers beyond your comprehension.

The Morrigan

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