They had finally found an evening in what the lady mage appreciated to be more civilized conditions. She furiously wrote next to one of the many hearths in the Tempestian estate.
To the Honorable Priests of Myrkul,
It is obvious that the inhabitants of the Forest of Wight are are not affected by magical spells. It is also greatly known that it only God-handed attacks and abilities. What is more interesting is the ability of a Siren (as she will be referred to hence) to lure and, if my theory is correct, control these spirits. I have not heard of a creature to control the undead by means of voice. According to accredited sources, the being sings to the deceased to come to the center of the forest.
She stopped writing to inspect the room again. Her party had mostly taken to rest after the festivities. Only herself and Kitty were left to sit by the roaring fire.
“You can go to bed now, Drace isn’t here any-”
“And vat does dat hav to do vit any’ting!?” She turned red and looked down at her letter again, focusing all her energy on the proper Indopanese tense she was using.
The meaning of this location is unknown to me; only that there is a great fog that confuses and blinds those who walk into it. Thus causing them to lose their sense of direction and become lost in the forest. This kind of fog I am familiar with thanks to the esteemed writings of Derrick Von Clementis. However, Von Clementis mentioned nothing of such a Siren.
“You could just tell him you know.” A large smile creeped on the Irda’s face.
“I do not know vat you are talking about,” she corrected indignantly.
“Fine, Miss Rika.” She was still smiling.
Additionally, there is an armor that has been acquired with peculiar properties. It bolsters the command of the wearer, while simultaneously repels the spirits of the dead. It was found in a Temple of Myrkul. I write to you, honorable ones, to inquire of your knowledge of observations or histories of such a creature and armor. Please post back to as soon as able.
Lady Osrika von Kysely
Death Mage to Myrkul
“I could just tell him when we get back to the keep.” Her large smile grew.
“You vould not dare?!” The dark haired woman said very slowly while glaring daggers at her companion.
The mage stood up whirled to go, only stopping herself to walk back to the borrowed writing board hurriedly finish writing, grab all of her notes in her arms and storming off; smearing ink on her hands and robes in the process.