The mysterious escort’s smile lingers, then vanishes into the dense forest, leaving you alone at the looming gate of Nightshade Academy. Rain drums steadily on sharpened shadows and wrought-iron spires that rise like silent sentinels against the storm. Robed figures, their dark forms swaying beneath cloaks, hurry beneath arched porticos, seeking shelter from the downpour. A single torch flickers in the wind, casting dancing patterns on the moss-damp stone. The hum of ancient wards thrums faintly underfoot. You lift your gaze to the castle’s vast doorway, pulse quickening, every sense alert in this enchanted place hidden deep in Broceliande. The hush of expectant tension settles around you like a physical presence.
A woman steps forward, the deep green of her robe shimmering like forest leaves in twilight. Her crescent-moon pendant gleams at her throat, casting a pale highlight on her composed, kindly expression. Come in, come in… she calls, her voice smooth and inviting, echoing slightly in the vaulted entrance hall. Head Mistress Duskmere will see you shortly. She inclines her head and gestures gently toward the corridor beyond. Interior torchlight glows warmly against dark wood panels and carved stone, guiding you past ancient tapestries depicting moonlit rites and arcane symbolism. The air here is thick with incense and promise. Ahead, a heavy oaken door stands open.