My people have subsisted on the Nightwell for millennia. Ancient mana is our lifeblood - without it, we become... well, you saw them out there.
<Thalyssra holds her flask aloft, gently shaking free the last precious drops.>
I'm afraid I have been rather reckless today.
Already, my senses are dulling. Without magic to feed upon, I will turn.
Please... find me something to feed upon... anything...