On the ignored side of Sleacirion, the World that is, stars are exiled into slumber, and the shameless moon cries as the arrogant Sun returns. Here layeth a fortress of immovable obsidian, yet it's stones speak secrets too. The Contract is broken. War is nigh. The Tyrant must return. But does Undon Mathrim care? This world was doomed to end, and I fear the end has begun. How do I know all this? Grace of Goodwill's Light, I suppose.