Eclipse
Extended set containing an extra D4
The colors pull in different directions—warm magenta and deep blue locked in constant orbit, with just enough gold carved into the surface to remind you this isn’t chaos. It’s choreography. Every face holds a pause, like it’s waiting for something else to move first.
They’re said to come from the dark side of the same sky that held Dawnstar. Not cast from the same light, but shaped by what passed in front of it. No tower this time. Just an old path, traced in moonstone dust, circling the rim of an abandoned crater where the sky forgets to turn.
Some claim they only roll true when the moon is waning. Others say they carry the memory of a second sun, the one that never rose.
But none of that matters once they’re in your hands.
Because when you cast them, the air stills.
And for just a second—just long enough to notice—
the stars blink out.
Extended set containing an extra D4
The colors pull in different directions—warm magenta and deep blue locked in constant orbit, with just enough gold carved into the surface to remind you this isn’t chaos. It’s choreography. Every face holds a pause, like it’s waiting for something else to move first.
They’re said to come from the dark side of the same sky that held Dawnstar. Not cast from the same light, but shaped by what passed in front of it. No tower this time. Just an old path, traced in moonstone dust, circling the rim of an abandoned crater where the sky forgets to turn.
Some claim they only roll true when the moon is waning. Others say they carry the memory of a second sun, the one that never rose.
But none of that matters once they’re in your hands.
Because when you cast them, the air stills.
And for just a second—just long enough to notice—
the stars blink out.
Extended set containing an extra D4
The colors pull in different directions—warm magenta and deep blue locked in constant orbit, with just enough gold carved into the surface to remind you this isn’t chaos. It’s choreography. Every face holds a pause, like it’s waiting for something else to move first.
They’re said to come from the dark side of the same sky that held Dawnstar. Not cast from the same light, but shaped by what passed in front of it. No tower this time. Just an old path, traced in moonstone dust, circling the rim of an abandoned crater where the sky forgets to turn.
Some claim they only roll true when the moon is waning. Others say they carry the memory of a second sun, the one that never rose.
But none of that matters once they’re in your hands.
Because when you cast them, the air stills.
And for just a second—just long enough to notice—
the stars blink out.