Racing through the shadowy corridors of your Master's Citadel as if you knew it's twists and turns by heart, you ponder what mysterious threat could lie ahead. You tap tentatively into the knowledge granted to you by your creator.
As previously stated by your Overlord, this is no band of heroes foolishly assaulting the shadowy lands behind the Barrier. Something much more... sinister is happening, swallowing up whole war camps and garrisons in the blink of an eye, and NONE of said locations are even nearby to the center of your Master's domain... Immediately you realize that whoever or whatever is sweeping through the land like a dagger down the back of some unknowing victim, they must have a reason, a clear objective, a focal point of interest. You picture in your twisted mind an image of the continent, and begin to recognise a direction to the mysterious losses of communication. The locations in question form a relatively clear line, moving southward from the Barrier, towards the coast several kilometers West of the Dark Citadel. There is an Orc spawning grounds directly South of the last garrison to go dark.
The destination is clear, as is the means of travel, you realize as you reach the grand entrance to the Ebon Fortress your Master calls home. The last vestiges of a sunset peer weakly over the horizon, like a foolish hero sputtering out their last breaths. You find yourself very fortunate to have emerged at such a fitting time for your species, as you feel within you how dangerous direct sunlight is to a creature of pure darkness like yourself.
Hateful red eyes grinning in the shadows, you dematerialize once more and set off into the night.
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