The night hangs heavy with promise. A whisper carries the scent of harvest, a reminder that the cycle turns ever onward. This is the time for renewal, to seize the treasures the dark yields. Let us honor this transition and venture into the unknown with souls prepared. Men of a World of Ruin The

The moon hangs heavy with promise. A chill carries the scent of change, a reminder that nature shifts ever onward. This is the time for renewal, to cull the fruits the dark offers. Let us celebrate this epoch and venture into the shadowed with souls prepared. Men of a World of Desolation The wind

The night hangs heavy with secrets. A whisper carries the scent of harvest, a reminder that life turns ever onward. This is the time for rebirth, to seize the treasures the dark bestows. Let us honor this transition and venture into the shadowed with eyes wide open. Men of a World of Desolation T