Within the boarders of Corrender, the Queen’s Harbingers fly from the capital like arrows. The Black Sun has risen in the east. The foresighted crying the Prophesy of The One has begun. The Queen’s advisers scuttle in groups, tongue flapping. the Prophets poor over every piece of information on the portent that has ever been documented. A call cries out for those brave enough to find the Crystal Fortress and eclipse the Black Sun before the world is in ruins.