Three weeks pass before Sil’Thalis travels alone toward the Troll Hills. The road narrows among wind-bent pines, old cairns, and stretches of pale, weathered stone.
Near dusk, a collapsed waystone lies half-buried beside the road. Dust trembles over its fractured face as an unfamiliar pulse rises from beneath the buried stones.
The old scars along Sil’Thalis’s arm answer with a muted thrum. The sensation resembles neither the refuge’s current nor the covenant’s measured presence.
Sil'Thalis
This magic is not the refuge, the covenant, Domini, or Xar.
The pulse comes again, deeper and slower. It carries no summons, command, or recognizable witness-mark, yet the buried road shifts enough to expose a narrow seam beneath the waystone.
Beyond the seam, darkness holds a faint copper glimmer. The Troll Hills rise ahead beneath gathering cloud, while the road behind remains empty and open.
Identify the source of the unfamiliar magic