out of the frying pan

It's a nice little family gathering, the Rift thinks—as much as a land can think—as it sorts through their souls with a desperate fervor. It's a nice little catastrophe to bring them all together. So many come through in groups, voices and hearts raw as they cry out for family.

Some is lost, some isn't, and perhaps the Rift thinks this is going a bit too nice for them, and perhaps it doesn't. It's not sure it has the same vicious streak as its finest champion, so it lets it slide.

As long as the souls come through. As long as there's magic to take. There's so much other sorrow and heartache and anger around them, enough to make up for their picnic. The presence dives deep into the latest addition to their party.

the Rift

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[ TRANSFER NOTES: LYANNA ]

Magic:
Offensive: Ability to summon gusts of wind.
Healing: Automatically self-heals when injured. Healing takes the shape of warm winds surrounding her.

Items:
Defensive: A silver horn. When blown, it generates a magical shield of wind.

Amulets:
Your amulet grows warm; not so warm as to sear your skin, but warm enough to be uncomfortable. It vibrates for a moment, like a content animal, and then seems to make up its mind—the chain shatters and the pendant grows tiny feet. It digs minute claws into your skin and climbs up your neck, up to your ear, and has the gall to actually bite it. It transforms into a black earring and slides through the hole it has made, locking with a decisive 'snick'. That ear goes slightly numb. A barely-heard voice registers in your mind. It never has any good suggestions.

Normal items transfer fine!