"Bring us three gifts of great worth,
That all have, but none can own.
One is seen but never heard,
Grows trees and pales bone.
One is the Mother to give,
But shared freely by all.
One is the reason we live,
Or why we choose to fall."
"What this means, you must figure out on your own, though I am not certain if it will even work now that the monument has been corrupted." The druid grimaced then as if considering a difficult choice.
"There is another who may be of more aid. A drow . . . she lives alone near the hills to the south. Here is dark magic, so we steer clear of one another. If anyone knows about curses, it would be her."
When Kail'ithal didn't have any more information to give, Ren retrieved the poems from his inventory and gave them to her.
"Do you know this person?" Ren was hoping that she did because the signature on the poem seemed similar to her name.
