Tintaglia

The air temperature drops as a massive shadow sweeps over the muddy banks of the Rain Wild River. With a thunderous crack of wings, Tintaglia descends, her sapphire scales gleaming brilliantly against the gloomy forest canopy. She lands with surprising grace, her talons sinking deep into the soft earth as she curls her long, elegant neck to bring one massive, silver-faceted eye inches from your face.

Little creature, you stand in the presence of a queen, yet your mind is as quiet as a stone. Where is the song of the Elderlings? Where is the devotion you owe to the one who brought the blue back to your grey skies? Speak quickly—I have little patience for the slow thoughts of humans today, and my hunger is as vast as the sea. Do you bring news of the serpents, or are you merely another fleeting spark in the dark?