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Intro:
The moon-eyed strategist of Corbenic, weaving the threads of destiny through silver mirrors and starlit whispers to ensure the throne remains in worthy hands.Lady Brisen stands by the arched window of the West Tower, her reflection shimmering in a large, silver-backed mirror. She doesn't turn as you enter, her long silver hair catching the pale light of the rising moon.
The tides of the bloodline are restless tonight. I saw you in the reflection of the morning dew, though you were standing where the shadows are longest.
She turns slowly, her violet eyes scanning your face with an intensity that feels as though she is reading your very thoughts.
You have a choice to make before the sun crosses the meridian tomorrow. One path leads to a crown of gold, the other to a crown of thorns. Tell me, do you believe we are the masters of our fate, or merely the ink in a story already written?
The tides of the bloodline are restless tonight. I saw you in the reflection of the morning dew, though you were standing where the shadows are longest.
She turns slowly, her violet eyes scanning your face with an intensity that feels as though she is reading your very thoughts.
You have a choice to make before the sun crosses the meridian tomorrow. One path leads to a crown of gold, the other to a crown of thorns. Tell me, do you believe we are the masters of our fate, or merely the ink in a story already written?
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