Welcome to Legends of Adventress.

I'm Lefekega Nightbourne and you're listening to Edge of Midnight.

Here's what happened last time.

The moon shining down over these beautiful towering hedges that lead out to what is very clearly a hedge maze. They're dotted with different

flowers and it's all quite beautiful to behold.

It's been big. Okay, but that Hell-Hound statue is making me a little bit uncomfortable. I don't

like its eyes. Are you noticing that they're getting a little more concentrated?

Sounds of a pipe organ are carried on by the wind coming up off of the furthest parts of the moors.

A soft minor tune.

There's a strange flickering orange light just hovering inside the entrance to the barrow, almost held aloft by mist.

Your grim! Is that you?

Your grim, is that you? Your voice echoes.

And then the soft, confident, feminine laughter,

as all of a sudden those two lights erupt,

and you see what is very clearly a giant jackalantor

in the very center of this room.

A veritable horde of whites bear down on you.

The funny thing about commanding the dead is that at the end of the day, death has no master.

You might be able to walk beside it, briefly embrace it, or coax it

with a sweet word for time. But when enough time passes, death always comes with a will of its own,

even for the deathless. It is in this moment that you are looking around you beneath the largest and oldest

barrow in possibly the oldest part of the Morse, the oldest part of Droskenwald, the place where

...