PlayerOliver

When you were a kid, you lived with your grandmother in the small town of Silvertree, on the edge of a magical forest. Grandma is a witch, and she taught you how to use your magic to affect the natural world, too. “Magic is a part of you,” she always told you. “Learning how to use it means figuring out who you are.”

Now you’re 19 and on your own. After years of living in the forest while you perfected your witchcraft, you’ve returned to take care of your grandmother’s house and crow-familiar while she’s gone. Figuring out who you are feels more important than ever - not to mention, figuring out what Silvertree is. A lot is just as you remembered: the friendly generous next-door neighbors with a kid just your age, the proud town council, the quaint little shops with quirky punny names, the gentle shadowy forest full of magic.

Stone in the shoe

For the next hour, the band plays almost without pause, each song fading into the next in a dreamy hum of chords that fills the room like a mist you can almost see glittering. The sound is hazy, otherworldly, and although the songs are slow, they always swell to a climax of harmonizing voices and echoing strings, with an insistent beat that drives the sound forward until it takes over everything.


The rest of the room isn't silent as they play—it doesn't seem as if the audience is expected to simply sit and watch, but rather let the music fade into the background if they want. But there's still a sense of intoxication with the music, as if nobody can quite resist being drawn along with it.


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