[PICNIC PAST THE PALE]
(Art Credit: https://t.me/podosokorsky)
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Where the birdsongs cease and the ground comes unfurled,
Through the briar, there's a crease
In the fabric of the world.
There's strangeness here, on the far shore of the lake
They're counting the breaths that you spend
From the ones that you take.
They'd love to meet you, carnate things
And trade you the day
For all the night brings.
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A picnic.
Where: Wust'Gar'Delk, The Isle of the Wolves
When: 25th October 7EST*
DM: Solus
Party:
>> The Heart Tuner Magic Intern
>> The Pond Scholar Passencore
>> The Bone Fisher Chiarophinx
>> The Witchling Daughter Hannah
>> (Pending) The Soft-spoken Slate mageaegis
>> (Pending) The Grave Contender TheDeester
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