The Kerra found herself sitting up in the bed of her well-furnished and decorated bedroom within the Raven Mythic Inn and Tavern. The room was pitch black. Save a soft illumination through her window. From the intact moon of Luclin sitting in the distant sky beyond.
- "Caw!" was the pronouncement which carried from across her bedroom.
- "Caw! Caw!", said the Raven. At which point it spread its wide wings and flapped toward the open door into a darkened corridor beyond.
She descended the stairs. Making her way into the Main Hall. Empty of people. Light from the fully stoked fireplace to one side cast interesting shadows through this large room void of any people. The tables. The chairs. The piano upon the raised platform at the hall's center covered with white sheets. A very sharp contrast to the regular business of dining, drinking and jacking of one's jaw that most are used to seeing in such an established social center that the inn has been known for.
The Kerra padded along the bar. Its stylish countertop and shelves that stood just beyond also covered in white sheets. Here and there under those sheets, she could discern the shapes and outlines of what were likely steins and goblets.
- "Caw!" was the sound of The Raven.
Now past the stables and onward across the wooded acreage which made up the broader land holding of the inn. Weaving through trees, bushes and tall grasses she had found herself at the lake's edge.
- "Caw! Caw! Caw!", spoke The Raven as it flew overhead of the Kerra. Psia's gaze followed it across the lake.
The boathouse along the lake has been partially refurbished over many years. But never finished and put back into proper use. A weathered sign very clearly warns patrons that this area is dangerous and may be more than it seems. Inn guests or staff inquiries having been skillfully brushed aside or otherwise redirected whenever the topic was mentioned. Psi'a recalled tale from other staff that those entering this building did not return the same as when they entered it. Some not returning at all.
The Kerra disregarded the sign. She stepped without concern toward the door. She would run her paw along the bronze embalm above the door that depicted a black moon rising over a clouded sky. She reach with her paw to grasp the latch to the door.
A door that was now completely gone. As if it were never there.
Only a dark void lie beyond the threshold.
Unblinking, the Kerra thought to pad right on through.
But then a sudden spark of light in the darkness gave her pause. A small flame lit and placed against a cigar. Held by a distant visage. Dressed in tight, black leathers.
A familiar voice from the distant past spoke, "Sometime's we're all a little badass."