Alvira did not feel like she had done enough.  The two adventurers, Celris and Osbourne, had been thrust upon a mission alone to a hostile land of which they had never been before. Alvira was doubtful they would make it alone.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Perhaps...</span>She thought,<span style="font-style: italic">Perhaps there is something else I can give them... </span>Shuffling about, Alvira overturned her desks and shelves in search of another gift, but what else could she give them?  She gave them the knife and the salve already, and she had not much more to spare.<br/>And then it hit her.<br/><br/>Feverously, Alvira poured vials of slime and muck into a bowl, their names and contents lost in time and space.  With a dash of this and a spoon full of that, Alvira had a steady brew made.  Slowly she poured a bag full of desert sands into the mix, causing it to take on a doughy texture.  As if under a spell, she rocked to and fro, her head hanging limp over the bowl.  For a few minutes she sat paralyzed before the spell came to her lips, pouring it's subtle magics over the bowl.<br/><br/>The doughy lump did not move at first, but then as if wrought from a grave, a single lump rose, forming a hand, which began to grasp at the air, at anything around it.  Alvira's trance dissipated, her work complete.  Which shaky hands she folded the mixture, bending it's shape to her will.  She continued this process for what seemed like hours, but she knew it would be well worth the wait.<br/><br/>*****<br/><br/><span style="color: #0000FF"> She slithered through the night, her ever-growing cape fluttering behind her.  It's color a deep blue, like sapphire.  Gracefully she lands, the very ground shimmering below her.  She is beautiful.  Her rounded face and plum lips, her long shiny hair and her eyes.  Her eyes.  They are a pale blue color, like small pools of light.  Her clothes are always changing, and if they are live animals who want to consume her.  There is more truth to this assumption than lie as her clothes are indeed very much alive.  They are simply a manifestation of her powers.  <br/><br/>  She turns and looks out across the twilight plains, her prison, and smiles.  The ever-dim skies are fading, the mountains of bedrock collapsing.  Everywhere she turns, she witnesses some form of destruction or decomposition.  The pine forests where she first found herself all those years ago had become nothing more than a field of rotting stumps.  Even the dirt itself seemed lifeless and drained.  Her plain was disappearing, and as much as it pained her to see it's imperfection, she knew it was for the good of her empire.  She knew that it not only was her plain fading in energy but so was he.  He could not hold her much longer, for this was assured.  She would be free.  <br/><br/>  The corner of her lips twitched into what could be described as a smirk.  Brushing a stray strand of hair from her face she watched, pleased with the knowledge of her imminent arrival.  Oh how his world would suffer once more, how their wretched kingdoms would know her fury.  All would fall to their knees and worship the one true titan queen.  <br/><br/>She was Shelune and she was coming back.</span>