The roar sounds even here upon Duppin, a place forsaken by most but beloved by the Shamai. Here crouches the Lady Irrelai, garbed in naught but vines. Her spine shudders at the sound, and she dives into the strange ground without hesitation. Here she rules, surrounded by fertile soil and covered in the seed of her children. Calling out to the land about her, the ground parts around her, forming an air-filled cocoon. Curling up within her protective, private alcove, she falls into the deepest of her meditations, calling the plants to burrow their roots into her skin to keep her body alive as she departs.
High above the planet, a specter the size of a small continent snarls out and disappears into the space between the dimensions.
