::Rid'Le Tir::

"Does a moth dream of stars, as it flies too close to the flame?"

Wandering about on the grounds of the Rid'Le Tir, you take note of how silent and peaceful it is. The wind dances through the treetops as you glance at the bright red flowers blooming all about in the grass. The delicate blossoms in the trees smell of honey and almost ooze the golden nectar.

Up ahead, you spot a fenced off meadow containing the strangest plants you have ever seen. A sign around the garden reads "Please do not pick the flowers. They are sleeping." They? Sleeping? You wonder about that choice of words. The flowers multicoloured, each one very different from the other. As you draw near you notice that they are not quite flowers at all, but orbs, tinted with colour and glowing mildly from within.

Couldn't hurt to get a bit closer. The second your foot touches the soil around the fence, you hear a soft crack. At your feet is a large orb, shattered.

This could get interesting.

Your eager eyes fall upon the pathways before you. It couldn't hurt to look around, could it?