The Tangled Wood looms tall and dark around you, clammy mist clinging to your clothes and swirling tightly as you walk forward. A week prior to the festivities of Shadow Flight's grand Circus, you had received a piece of parchment proclaiming a thrilling contest to measure the wit and writing mettle of dragons across all of Sornieth. No matter what kind of magic is cast on the parchment, it is so far impossible to discern where the flyer may have come from.
The flyer has directions leading to a place in the Tangled Wood on the back. If you were to ask another clan with a flyer for the same event, the directions leading you to this location in the Wood of the Binder would be different than those on yours. How odd!
The flyer welcomes all writers and bards from all across Sornieth. For the first time in a very long while, the Amphitheatre is filled with dragons, rather than a smattering of denizens of the Tangled Wood. Empty no longer, the ancient sepulcher of learning and creativity would almost feel to be bursting with energy. A magically attuned dragon may find themselves overwhelmed by the thrumming energy. Dragons find themselves seats as hatchlings amble around, making friends with one another as easily as water drips from the needles of the Wood.
As the gathered dragons quiet down, a booming feminine voice rings out over the idle chatter that had been going on. “Greetings dragons of Sornieth, I am Mycena of Shadow Flight. I would like to welcome you to a place unknown to many. Aye, I welcome you to the Amphitheatre of Ages, where Shadowfolk have brought tales and stories to share and rejoice in. It had been long forgotten, and rediscovered only recently. I have brought it upon myself to reawaken this scholarly sepulcher, to return it to its former glory. And now I open it for this week only! So come and make merry! Share your tales for all to hear and you may even win a prize!”