On a bright and sultry moonlit even, somewhere in the old Southlands of Novarya, two creatures (were they blondes or were they little mushroom-creatures?) walked far later than they really should have done. They came to a running stream beside a rocky cliff, and from somewhere, perhaps from a cave in the cliff, echoed haunting voices singing wordlessly the tune of the old Novaryani lullaby known as "Khindri".
Were they the undines - the water-elementals - told of from of old, singing to sleep, perhaps, some human blonde-child or brunette-child stolen from her mothers on such a night as this?
We shall never know, for the listeners, shivering unaccountably despite the humid heat of that southern night, stole swiftly and silently back to their home.
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