The Phoenix Stone

The Phoenix Stone

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WpMetadataReadConcluida sáb, mar 30, 20245h 18m
It all starts with a dream... or rather, a vision. A very real feeling vision in which the most feared creatures in the land of Everneau---the Enchantiss---are broken out of their longtime prison, Gloomhaven by none other than the Emperor of Everneau, Havel. Judging by the gravity and seriousness of the conversation between the Enchantiss and Emperor Havel that Nyx saw in her vision, Emperor Havel is recruiting the Enchantiss for something terrible, though Nyx wasn't able to hear anything in her vision. Nyx tells her tough grandmother about this vision and suddenly, she finds herself locked up in the house and her grandmother preparing for something that might never happen, scared for what is going to come. They have an argument and Nyx storms to her bedroom. When she comes down, her grandmother is being carried off by the strange looking creature from her vision---the Enchantiss. Now Nyx will have to find a way to rescue her grandmother from the clutches of the Enchantiss and Emperor Havel.
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Lara, in this magical and enchanting world, nothing is a lie! So believe in fairy tales. This was the phrase my mother whispered to me every night with her gentle voice. When she read the story of "Jack and the Beanstalk," I would always curiously ask: • But why don't I have a magic bean that can take me wherever I want? She would smile kindly and keep hope alive in my heart. We all believed in magic and wizards as children, fairy tales, and Little Red Riding Hood! I wished I would never know the bitter taste of reality. But years after her death, I faced the harsh reality of the world; a reality I had always tried to escape. After my mother's death, her voice remained with me, inviting me to the bright world of hope; unlike many who grew up and no longer believed in any childish dreams. But I remained faithful to stories and the land of fairies, believing that destiny awaits us all! We are born into different tales and live with love. However, the bitterness of the world ensnared me in its grip. Just when I was only nine years old, I became acquainted with the bitter reality of life; when the snowy night arrived! I had never seen snow so terrifying and ugly. Because my mother was in bed, coughing up blood and taking her last breaths. A tiny bit of white snow had fallen from my woolen boots onto the ground, and when her hand hung limp, droplets of blood dripped from her fingers onto the snow, turning it red.

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