Blackwater Islands i trace an altar in my god's name

blackwater is growing.

too quickly, the prophet's voice was clipped. our acolytes must learn. it falls to me to show them the way. she drew in a long and weary breath, and seemed to soften.

i feel pride, too, keeper. but it is tempered by the weight of my knowledge of what is to come.

change is on the winds. the tide. the spirits sing of it. i hear it always. a queen. a demon. a family. a loss. all of these things will come to the druids. dread loomed over the listener. the druids would be tested. she knew this.

she did not know if they would pass these tests.

we must be ready.