Can you hear it? Listen closely, dear wanderer. The whistle of the light breeze that coaxes your hair, weaves through the trees and the long grass, gliding past in soft whispers. Leaves murmur in tender lyrics, guiding your footsteps along the beaten path of dirt and rubble. The Lyra Meadows are a fantastical place, with colours so bright and contrasting with the illuminating sun. It is never short of whimsical in this region, where flora and fauna mix in song. However, fair traveler, beware when the sun dims to dusk - for it is when the true creatures of the forest come. The light scenery turns dark with fog and moonlight, whispers turning to mutters of ill intent. Take heed, friend, for the meadows are quick to change face when day turns to night.