In Midsummer of 454 MA, a disturbance rippled across the heavens once again and the people of Sapience gazed skyward in trepidation of what new horror might grace their weary skies. Silence reigned for days with only the passage of the sun to mark the strange visions that continued to blister the horizon.

A thunderous assault shattered the waning peace of late Midsummer, shifting the heavens and shuddering the ground as blow after blow rained upon reality before the target was made truly clear: Dhar, the Underking, and His endless Halls of the Dead. As the veil between the Underhalls and the Prime Material Plane grew thinner with each strike, stains on reality blossomed in places of death and lingering torment.

The first stain upon reality appeared within the depths of the Underking's newly established temple as a shimmering, ethereal pall of light. The Underking, harried and weary, banished the pall before departing once again to His Underhalls. For His efforts, more winked into existence across Sapience:
the hollow temple in Scidve, the ruins of Mournhold, the war-weary village of Jaru, and finally an ancient battleground deep within the Siroccians now all played host to the sickening rents that rippled across reality.

Multitudes of spirits after ages of torment found themselves freed of their bondage in the Underhalls and spilt forth in chilling waves upon Sapience's unhallowed burial grounds. Dhar's exalted order of the 'Kingbound' did not rest easy. Maintaining a constant vigil through the weeks, Noelle, Phendegwen, Camile, Adali, Grawthorg, Plato, Rosdes, and Rasani quelled the spirits where they rose, but it seemed that the dead were truly endless in their number.

As the days dragged on, few answers and even more questions came to the servants of the Underking.

Penned by my hand on Closday, the 24th of Lleian, in the year 454 MA.