The Sinister East

They say it began first with the Madness.

Brother turned on brother, child murdered by their mother, and all manner of shadows and trees that are not what they seem. Never does a man sleep in the East any longer, for it is said that his dreams will devour his soul, and he will be forever lost in the Abyss, doomed to do the senseless biddings of an eyeless, malformed nightmare.

It is this nightmare which has gripped the east, the immortal spirits of Mankind being forever corrupted, the bodies of fallen heroes rising from the ground and turning into nothing less than Abominations. Those that venture into the East find that they can no longer turn back – they must press ever farther in until their nails have broken, their teeth have rotted, and their eyes hollow sockets, depicting a horrible tragedy of sorrow and despair.

From the ground a charred hand picks up the edict, an unearthly yellow blaze wreathing the effigy. Its mouth and eyes are naught but the mixture of light, scribbled speckles of white where there would otherwise be black. It sees a scrap of paper from a land not too far away. It comprehends. It screams with thirteen mouths in the Song of the End Times – “The dark work has begun.”


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