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Within the edge of the woods, a cloaked figure sat upon a decaying branch of an ancient tree. It sat in quiet anticipation, almost as if it had been waiting a lifetime for the barge to come. A lifetime for it to come and be set [i]aflame.[/i] But before committing to their indulgences the creature's feminine voice began to let out an eerie hymn in the forest.

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[sub]one, two, three, four 

tell me who the bell rings for? 

hopeless, dead knights

shadows lurking in the dark. 

old, pitiful hopes 

as the reaper knocks on your door.[/sub][/color][/center]
As the song came to an end, the birds behind the cloaked figure began to erupt into unease, their wings fluttering in unison alongside their terrible caws. As the birds began to take off like a flood of locusts, the Eoldysseus’s magical engines went dead in an instant alongside any passenger’s spells. For anyone who could understand or quickly deduce what had happened would realize they had happened upon an anti-magic field; though such a deduction wouldn’t help them from the swarm of accursed crows, owls, and ravens that were about to descend upon them with the intent to remove their flesh from their bones.

The figure let out a giggle on her perch as she moved the tea in her hands to her lips.

She couldn’t wait to hear all of their screams.

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