Thunderous Bellow

A dented, slightly warped bronze plate juts from the soil somewhere in the Flats or near the Dread River, its surface etched with Maker-runes and esoteric diagrams. No one knows how it came to rest here, half-swallowed by the earth. Within the workings of those runes sleeps the voice of the storm primeval — a spell that turns a single shout into a wall of force. Cleaning, deciphering, and rehearsing it is no small thing; the lessons can wreck a careless throat as easily as they fell an enemy.