A quick bit of a chat with Damian, he might have kept talking afterwards but I misread something and took it as I was being dismissed from the chat, so who knows. Also I'm really awkward with divine/mob interaction, so sorry for awkwardness whoever it was!
A wry smile spreads across Damian Nightshade's face.
You curtsey gracefully before Damian Nightshade.
Damian Nightshade rubs his temples in frustration.
Damian Nightshade says, "You frustrate me. If you are going to keep doing so, leave now."
Within the tutor's quarters.
Damian Nightshade stands here, his lightly glowing red eyes regarding you with a mocking gaze. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. With dark grey eyes, a
muscular wyvern with ebony bat wings prowls around here.You see a single exit leading west.
Damian Nightshade says, "I imagine that you are the one to be thanked for keeping the temperature of the forest under control, then."
You say to Damian Nightshade, "Ah, no, I am too new to the skills involved in Shamanism. Another Druid helped out earlier, making it quite cold within the forest."
You say, "A wonderful reprieve from Sun's heat, mind you."
With a curt nod, Damian Nightshade says, "How much this will truly mitigate whatever is occurring, I am uncertain."
Damian Nightshade flaps his wings quickly and begins to hover in the air.
You frown and say, "Hm, it seemed to have little effect earlier."
You frown and say, "It was cold, yes, but Sun was still causing it to heat further and hail thundered down where there should have been snow."
Damian Nightshade says, "From what I have observed, the base temperature of the forest - and likely outside it as well - has not risen by the sort of spectacular level that one would suspect given the sudden proximity of Sun."
Damian Nightshade purses his lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as he carefully gathers his thoughts.
You say, "No, it has not overly much. It still feels mild overall."
Damian Nightshade says, "Which explains the possibility of contradictory weather patterns."
You tilt your head curiously.
You say, "My experience is limited beyond the actual Glomdoring, I have not wandered the roads or any other places in the Basin with active since Sun became quite active."
You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.
"I am no astrologer," Damian Nightshade adds as a caveat, holding one hand up. His stern expression is tempered somewhat by intellectual curiosity. "But to truly modify the temperature of the whole Basin - and the lands outside it - would take an almost Divine level of power. If the Spirit had reached that sort of level, I imagine we would know it beyond a shadow of a doubt."
You nod your head in agreement.
Growing pensive, Damian Nightshade says, "But it should be noted, as you will probably have established from your studies, that even the slightest rise in temperature may have considerable
effects on the natural world."
You say, "From what we have heard of the different Prophecies, Sun does not act alone. A Magnagoran heard from their Necromantate that a madman acts behind Sun."
Damian Nightshade raises an eyebrow questioningly.
Damian Nightshade says, "I would put little trust in the ravings of a disembodied brain."
The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.
Damian Nightshade waves his hand dismissively.
You say to Damian Nightshade, "Thank you for your thoughts on the matter, it is something to consider."
You curtsey gracefully.
Damian Nightshade inclines his head politely to you.
Avurekhos says, "Dylara's a PvP menace in my eyes, totes rekting face."
The eye of Dylara materialises in your hands and flings itself around your neck, tightening incomprehensibly until it is irremovable.
Perfectly clean, this eyeball has been wrenched from the socket of Dylara. It has been animated by some unusual force, constantly looking around itself as if in shock or fear. It is bathed in a light covering of white flames that roll endlessly over its surface. A single chain of empyreal metal pierces either side of the eye, allowing it to be worn around the neck.
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The eye of Dylara materialises in your hands and flings itself around your neck, tightening incomprehensibly until it is irremovable.
Perfectly clean, this eyeball has been wrenched from the socket of Dylara. It has been animated by some unusual force, constantly looking around itself as if in shock or fear. It is bathed in a light covering of white flames that roll endlessly over its surface. A single chain of empyreal metal pierces either side of the eye, allowing it to be worn around the neck.