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"Tell me everything you know of Tamar's plans Wilbur." Walter said, sitting back in his chair, Wilbur across from him. Wilbur stared at the calendar for a moment. August 28th it was.
Cascading, obsidian fabric rippled in the screeching, icy storm. Merciless, sapphire eyes glittered from under a raven black hood. Ancient symbols filled the chaotic night as the Necromancer chanted.
Slumped against a mossy rock the Mage gazed through the fire to the large rounded stone opposite that had clearly been used by others setting camp in this area before.