The Lore of Shadow Mage Larissa of the Field

Far away in The Deep, Shadow Mage Larissa toiled. Her cauldron bubbled bright and loud. Her voice carried through the damp limestone walls, an incantation that called on the darkest corners and crevices:

*“Oh I left a good job in the citadel

Working for the man every night and day And I never lost one minute of sleeping Worrying about the way the things might've been”*

The fire from her torch shrunk as the shadows crept closer to the cauldron. With each verse of her chant, it grew darker still. Deeper and denser.

When every speck of light had been snubbed, she tapped her staff twice on the cold hard stone. A thick black void crept into the head of her staff, bringing a swirling cold with it.

As the flame returned to her torch, she grinned, the corners of her mouth dancing in the flickering light. “Mary would be proud,” she whispered, turning her back to the now tepid cauldron and starting her long journey home.

Entered by: 0x8A5a…5d38 and preserved on chain (see transaction)