My brothers and sisters of the clergy,

Faenrae sow discord, moths blot out the sun, banshees howl. The creatures of the Dark Ones herald the coming of the storm and the night of glory. We who feel the tempest building to a crescendo have a duty: To maintain our piety while teaching the ignorant and guiding them toward salvation. Perhaps it is not too late. Those of you who serve the Dark Ones or have felt Their calling, find me. Do not flounder. Do not lose your way. Our last chance draws nigh.

Hisakna'hhs'Izzu'hhr
Whiteburn