In a place of eternal dusk, where the sky is no longer blue, stygian walls of sable forts keep the night at bay.A former bastion of knowledge, where weeping angels dance, lifeless in its depths.A dormant stronghold, where forlorn ravens sing, dim-lit by the midnight hues, yet no stars stood.An endless night, locked in twilight, and bound by the unseen moon.A place where the fallen king resides... where he sleeps.This is the story that he made.Isn't that right... Nonary?