Everyone in the prayer house stares at me some even going so far as to start praying as the scrolls float in front of me.
The hazy tendrils glow a shimmering white as energy is sent through every few seconds.
I sit and read one scroll while two have my mana running through them, the ink distorting the flow and I can discern the letters.
I would say I am scanning the scroll but it is more like I am reading braille, when the letters are too small it makes it impossible to tell what it is but with the right context I can fill in the blanks.
They document the feats done by the people here, immortalizing them in a sense.
I am more interested in how they developed, even though the majority of the stuff written is propaganda for children it still works to document the state of the town.
Praug has taken their men, and Boone has taken their children.
