Whispers Of The Moon's Spell
The rogue’s ominous laughter still echoed in my ears as we regrouped. With the barrier compromised, it was clear we needed a new plan, something that could tip the scales in our favor. As dawn broke, casting a pale light over the battle-worn town, Evelyn approached me, her face etched with urgency.
“Emily, there’s something you need to see,” she said, leading me to her makeshift lab.
On the table lay an ancient manuscript, the pages yellowed with age but the ink still vibrant. Evelyn pointed to a passage written in an old dialect, one I recognized from the werewolf lore in the underground library.
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