In the wake of the Ascension of Karlach Stormcrow, the Glomdoring was disturbed by a tiny visitor – the previously unknown Averi Nightshade. Emerging without fanfare from the shadows themselves, she demanded their help to aid the Wyrd. When asked of her purpose, she spoke only of one who slept, whose was as the Wyrd itself, and indicated the existence of a mound hidden in the darkness of the Glomdoring’s groves.
It was Ried Stormcrow who first found the hillock of thorn-covered dirt. Averi soon arrived, and demanded blood – the blood of bards to replace what she indicated had been stolen by “One in the North”. Her cryptic, tightlipped statements, coupled with a distinct mockery and disrespect. of Eliron Shee-Slaugh, led the Harbingers to speak to the Voice of Mahalla, seeking confirmation of their claims.
The Voice spoke only of the excitement of the Wyrd. Frustrated, the Harbingers spoke to the Shadow Court. Whispers eddied beneath the branches as they debated the wisdom of helping Averi – of simply killing Averi – of seeking further guidance. Meanwhile, Averi was unbowed – bantering coldly with her kin, Celina Nightshade, she spoke to Zouviqil Myeras of canon and roses and webs.
Meanwhile the first blood had already been shed to the mound. Black roses bloomed as the Glomdoring was stirred, as if by unseen things. Still skeptical, Eliron Shee-Slaugh sought the guidance of Lhiannan, who would confirm only that the mysterious Nightshade was a Shadowdancer aiding the Wyrd.
The Seneschal herself, Tacita An’Ryshe took to the roads with the aid of the Maestro. With cold zeal, they retrieved the bards. But it was not to the library they brought the wandering minstrels – it was to the hidden mound, where their blood watered the roses. As bud after bud burst into bloom, the mound split open to reveal the statue of a robed woman – a familiar woman who bore a scythe in Her hands.
With the Crown of Gloriana on Her brow, the Lady of the Webs did not wake until Averi Nightshade, uttering the words “Nothing Matters but Glomdoring”, slit open her throat and gave herself to the forest. At last, on a pillar of purple Viravain woke from Her slumber beneath the Glomdoring. Praising those awaiting Her, She rapidly reasserted Her control of the situation, whispering to those of Her Order and calling out to the Aesthete ardently, calling for Her return to the Heart of Darkness.