She doesn’t come in darkness. She IS the darkness

Sensual as a slice of cold steel drawn across the throat.

Her every wish is murder.

Mother to mayhem, she is yet alone,

Breathing terror into those who but think her name.

Trapped in her hidden world, she plots, waging her secret campaign to re-claim all that has been taken from her.

In nightmares, she bides her time.

But her patience is not equal to the millenia of her imprisonment.

Her hour draws nigh. Beware, my child. The Shadow Queen cometh.

– Tsura di Iacopo Ritagliatore compassionevole, Witch –

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