Warden Yrsa came into the crossing-dark outside THE Ymnaros.
The white rivers opened behind her, and her forces came through.
They came in silence as dozens of them poured out of the loomlight, and every one of them was shrouded head to toe in white cloth that left nothing of a face or a frame to read, their wrappings drawn tight and bound at the wrists and the throat, and around each shrouded figure, rivers of THE Argent Loom turned slowly in orbit!
Not one of them emanated a thread of authority as they fanned out toward the fused Dimension! Not an Intent among them. Not an ounce of Source, not a breath of Infinity, and their presense registered nowhere at all as they went!
Yrsa watched them deploy.
A single one of them was equivalent to a weak Primeval Lifeform.
