A fatal disease has spread amongst the members of the Shadow Syndicate's Northern Sanctum. Thieves and legends alike are dropping left and right.
A face emerges from the soil, a pale blue eye opening up just as he says this, searching for the source of the noise. She sees him, looks into him, awakened after many years of sleep. “The things we don’t mean to do often have incredible consequences,” a voice, half-demonic, half-angelic, whispers from the ground.