Night Sky
Extended set containing an extra D4 | D8 | D10 | D20
The blue runs deep—navy, indigo, violet fading into near-black where the light forgets how to reach. Flecks of fine glitter settle like old starlight, the kind that traveled too far to burn anymore. Gold numerals float above it all, like something etched not for reading, but for remembering.
Some say this is where Dawnstar was born. Others say Night Sky came later, after the rest had burned out. Either way, these aren’t about beginnings or endings. They’re the space between. The pause in a sentence when you realize the story’s older than you thought. The breath before something sacred answers back.
They're found in places where you don’t bring torches. Old observatories with no doors. Forgotten altars built beneath the open air. And always—always—they’re cold to the touch.
Extended set containing an extra D4 | D8 | D10 | D20
The blue runs deep—navy, indigo, violet fading into near-black where the light forgets how to reach. Flecks of fine glitter settle like old starlight, the kind that traveled too far to burn anymore. Gold numerals float above it all, like something etched not for reading, but for remembering.
Some say this is where Dawnstar was born. Others say Night Sky came later, after the rest had burned out. Either way, these aren’t about beginnings or endings. They’re the space between. The pause in a sentence when you realize the story’s older than you thought. The breath before something sacred answers back.
They're found in places where you don’t bring torches. Old observatories with no doors. Forgotten altars built beneath the open air. And always—always—they’re cold to the touch.
Extended set containing an extra D4 | D8 | D10 | D20
The blue runs deep—navy, indigo, violet fading into near-black where the light forgets how to reach. Flecks of fine glitter settle like old starlight, the kind that traveled too far to burn anymore. Gold numerals float above it all, like something etched not for reading, but for remembering.
Some say this is where Dawnstar was born. Others say Night Sky came later, after the rest had burned out. Either way, these aren’t about beginnings or endings. They’re the space between. The pause in a sentence when you realize the story’s older than you thought. The breath before something sacred answers back.
They're found in places where you don’t bring torches. Old observatories with no doors. Forgotten altars built beneath the open air. And always—always—they’re cold to the touch.