Donations by the Sylvanian bardess, Tavia

[Red the Rogue]

As a newly-joined Namer of the Society of Sensation, sponsored by Factor Sasha Andor, Tavia's mission to seek her own experiences and understand the experiences of others had begun. As she started to look through the various donations, either out of curiosity's sake or to understand the plights of others, the elf donated her own experiences. Upon entry, five such experiences were donated, one for each of the five senses. Unless otherwise noted, all of her donations are requested to be made public.

Scales of a Dragon - Touch

The sensation of touch sprang onto your left hand, a touch of hardened plates on the side of a large creature. Your fingertips gently grazed the edges of each scale, and yet felt the sharp edges. So sharp that it felt like one wrong move could cut your hand.

A Changed Diet - Taste

The taste of cooked venison fills your mouth. Lightly seasoned, the taste seemed normal... but off. Despite the possibly-delicious meal, it had a sickening texture to it. Just as you begin to feel ill, the sensation ended.

The Blackburnian Warbler's Song - Hearing

A loud series of chirps of a bird rang out in your ears. It sounded very distant, but loud and attention-grabbing. It repeated several times before a murmur was heard in the recording, but it seemed indistinct, unfocused. The listener must have been more focused on the bird's song in the distance than the speaker. For those that would make it out, it sounded like a Blackburnian Warbler's song.

The Air of Arvandor - Smell

The smell of fresh pine wafts into your nostrils. It grew stronger as you breathed in, softer as you breathed out. It seemed refreshing, clean even. A sharp contrast to the usual air of Sigil.

A Red Sigil - Vision

A red world came into view. The cobblestones, the buildings in your view, the almost unnatural curve of the city above... It was most definitely Sigil, and yet unfamiliar. Harmonium banners hung from barricades, blocking off all passages further into the city. The vision shifted to the left, regarding what appeared to be the Civic Festhall itself. you approached closer, your feminine left hand extending into view to push against the large double-doors to no avail. Your gaze turned around again and approached one of the signs hanging nearby, clearly reading 'Office of Civic & Social Affairs'. As the vision turned skyward, it went dark.