The moon had risen, its light peering into the darkest corners of the world and gazing at its secrets. A city hung beneath the moon like a cloud heavy with rain, suspended unmoving in the air and innocent of the evil that dwelt below. While most slept, one stirred. A shadow carried on the Lythian wind fluttered through the maze of towers and turrets until it snaked into a lone window. Inside, the stone walls and floor were barren and dusty. The shadow slid past cascades of cobwebs, rustling them like curtains, causing the inky black spiders to pause from their spinning to see who had disturbed their work. Death will conquer. It will scour the land like the darkest night. A figure formed from the coiling mist; a cloaked silhouette with paper skin and black lifeless lips. She stood before a heavy wooden desk. Papers, dried and withered, lay like leaves scattered across the top, the writing far too faded to read. Stooped over the desk was a skeleton of incredible age. Time had rendered its features into dust with the exception of some leathery patches of skin hanging from the hollow of its cheeks.
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