||" ....... If you know who I am, don't tell a soul.
    ....... If you let me in, I won't let go.
       ...... If you keep me close, I'll eat your

            ...... S I N ...... "||

At the docks of the Halcyon Ward, a violent gust rocks the waves to clash against Rodrick's ship and stones. Energy crackles along a tear in the fabric of the plane, carving open a void of hushed whispers and glimmers of light.

Ectoplasmic fluid drips and splashes down against remnants of storm and salt-bleached stones.

Drip. Drip drip. Dlop plop slush tsss.

One foot, then the other, still slick and teeming with the embriotic flesh of the space between planes. Ambiguous. Beautiful. Eyes like mirrors stare into the unfamiliar territory. Naked as a newborn save for a few scraps of cloth clinging irritably to the flesh, a pale figure merges with the sea of faces.

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