The Lore of Shaman Wolfram of Dreams

Open your eyes… wake up, Wolfram.

Wolfram's eyes slowly open, and Nanto leaves the corner of the cabin to sit by the side of the bed. They're in their dank, one room cabin deep in the Fey, and hungry. Wolfram grabs his magic stick and hunting hat and they walk outside.

Stepping out onto the cool, damp grass of the twilit forest, a light feeling washes through Wolfram: a foreboding sense of deja vu, like they were living the exact same day, over and over again. After a brief pause, and thinking nothing of it, they begin their hunt.

The trek through their enchanting, monotonous stretch of the Fey is quiet for quite some time, until Nanto finally spots a large psychic rabbit quickly darting through some trees. The deja vu strikes again, intensely this time, and the dog is motioned to stay.

Wolfram's eyes close, and both hands, beginning to sparkle, grasp the stick. “Jevak Quaguz,” he says deeply and quietly, bringing both hands close, holding the stick vertically. A fireball streaks away and into the trees.

Nanto hears the rabbit's faint, last squeal and fetches their meal. The two turn around and begin their walk home. The dog is thrilled to eat, but Wolfram is stuck deeply contemplating how he knew exactly where to send the spell.

Entered by: 0x91d0…b1E1 and preserved on chain (see transaction)