East Balnia
In a dimly lit room, the witches stand before a square box with fire lit above it, as the air hums with raw power. Rhiannon's hands move in patterns, as she chants, her voice low. The chant echoes against the damp walls of the room.
Moonlight peeks through some cracks in the brick walls, casting an eerie glow and illuminating the circle of witches gathered around the square box and glowing stones before it.
Rina stands at the edge, her gaze flickering between the intense focus on Rhiannon's face and the sound of the waves of the sea just beyond the room's entrance. The scent of salt fills her nostrils, mixed with the earthy scent of burning herbs in the fire.
"Sisters of shadow and storm," Rhiannon's voice rises, laced with magic, "heed my call! Daughters of the deep, lend us your voices!"
