On dim roads, riders set forth to run the breadth of Esshar...
 
Black cloaks mounted upon black steeds, set across the continent from Old Achyon to Promethia.
   

It's said each ride forth in the company of a two-headed raven... with dulled, sightless eyes.
 
Messages carried far and wide to the corners of the world which prefer shadow unto the light of the sun, and a missive for all those who sup on the blood of man.
 

Quote:

 
The elder ruin of a race long relegated to myth and superstition are spoken of in hushed whispers now.
 
... It's said that even the Queen of Osrona returns to her palace with twin pin-pricks dotted upon her neck.
 
The era of the sun, however brief... begins to draw to a close.
 
Soon, the door will snap shut eternal.