Whispers beneath ancient vaults, echoes that linger after the storm's fury.
The Hollow Gale, a secret chant, murmured by those who tread halls of twilight.
Beneath the moon's gaze, cloven oaks bear witness to the forlorn passage of initiation.
In circulations of mist, one finds bindings cementing fate with woven silver strings. Listen closely, for the night conceals amenities beyond reach, where shadows sway into restless dances.
Ritual of Siginmalar's Whisper The Eclipse of Murmured Secrets The Velveteen Oblivion