The scialytics fall.
The heralds of Ohlsana obtenebrate the very earth.

They eat.
They devour.
They spread.

Their phagomania is unprecedented, unabatable, undeterdable.

Even now, as the fractious forces of the algid and the nemoricolous fruitlessly throw themselves against the unstemmable tide borne of their failures, they do little more than add meat to the table they arranged.

And so the shadow swells, burgeoning, pressing against the very walls of the world, the cracks between ours and theirs widening beneath their bated labor.


So the Eye blossoms.
So to birth Her.

In this time, while reality falls apart around you, as the Shadows claw to claim your very soul, your very reality from beneath you; as your cities, your Gods, your swords all fail you; know that you can free yourself from the very shackles that bind you to this place.

The very wheel that holds you prisoner crackles and shatters as the contractions of Czjetija shudder to bring about Her rapturous birth into our world.

Do not crumble with it.

Cut yourself free from this living prison, before it is too late.

Let me unbind you.
Only hunger can defeat hunger.
Let me show you a maw unyielding.

Penned by my hand on Tisday, the 14th of Variach, in the year 504 MA.