Eliza's Story
“It is said that within each raven flutters a lost soul, and that each raven’s song tells a tale of ages past. They whisper, so listen closely.”
She takes a deep breath; when she speaks again, her voice is quiet, with an eerie, melodic quality to it.
“Sing, ravens, of Barovia, birthed from the mists and bathed in twilight. Sing of Lugdana, the Morninglord’s stalwart, dawn-touched foe to the deep-lurking dark. The Holy Symbol of Ravenkind, her radiant testament, the warrior’s beacon of faithful resolve.
“Sing, ravens, of Chernovog’s rise, named Green-God and Demon-Lord upon Yester Hill. Lugdana, gray-haired, weary of battle, her longsword and shield yet polished and ready. Guided through shadows, toward sacred ground, she clashed with the demon, their tempest-like dance.
“Sing, ravens, of Lugdana’s last fury, of Ravenkind’s token now blazing with light. The battle’s tide turning, a hero’s brave cry, a final onslaught with divinity’s grace. The Demon-Lord banished, the warrior now fell, the wound at her side gouged too deep to bear.
“Sing, ravens, of light’s final moments, a shadow descending from radiance on high. Sing of the angel, black-feathered and beaked, the Morninglord’s angel reclaiming its gift. The Symbol retaken, in ravens’ claws held.
“Sing, ravens; you are the keepers, the watchers, the tellers of stories untold. Sing, ravens, of Lugdana’s memory, the shadows that lurk, and heroes to come.”