The high granite watchtowers of Blackwood Keep loomed against the darkening afternoon sky as the twelve weary riders descended the northern pine ridges. Above them, the heavens were taking on an unnatural, eerie violet cast. The sun was being slowly devoured by the creeping black silhouette of the New Moon—an astronomical eclipse foretold in the ancient scrolls as the Hour of the Void. A chilling wind swept through the valley,…
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