Brushing away dust and dirt and sand and grit, the towering penumbra men stagger, drift, and wonder of the dark earth that surrounds them. These gods of an ancient world are simple men staring at a nothing moon struggling to invent a word to describe such darkness.
The penumbra once had a word for the sun, VVLNA, but in this strange world, this black earth, there seems no use for it. And Father Jackal... every trace has vanished. The penumbra wonder if indeed they are alone here.
In the distance stands The House of Wolves. There they will find answers.
Some wish for food. Some wish for God. Only one will see the light.
