Senna
Human Arcana Cleric
AC: 19 HP: 61/61
PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17
Conditions: -
Concentration: -

Spoiler: Dream
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Senna tossed and turned. Her tried to pray but her voice was silenced. All her ears, all her god could hear was claws scrapping on the floor, metal bars creaking, vile snarls. The beast was after her, maybe consuming her essence. After a few moments, feeling like eons, Senna shoots up.


Senna shoots up as well, pulling herself up to a standing to evade a now invisible assaillant. Her cold sweat is caught in the breeze, finally giving her a different sensation to wake her up completely. Really poor metaphors Father uses. she finally cracks a joke. A caged monster clawing at me? A bit heavy handed but it brings the point across. Her humor did not cover up how shaken she was from the experience. As usual, Senna retreats to pray first thing in the morning, ruminating over the Divine Metatext. There must have been more secrets hidden in it. If a mortal had it all, they could understand the Weave, and the universe. Not that it was her thing to usurp gods, but recently it felt it was her duty and only defense to understand divine matters.

Refreshed and unusually solemn, she returns to the group. However horrible the night was, it has passed, and I am steeled for a new day. And with new blessings. Senna radiated health like never before. Her skin was clear and her movement unhindered, her step full of purpose. Maybe the lacking illusion of the chaotic boots was part of it, but Senna felt more secure. We have to hurry. Maybe we can satiate our inner bloodlust by getting justice served. Do we want to give the boots to the Djinn by the way? I don't think I could give a trader cursed boots in good conscience.