The dust settles. The people of Graehelm and Thillria believe they are safe.
They are not.
High in her tower, Andelusia awakens. The rain will forever
fall, she knows. The time is now. The Ur are coming.
Deep in the wilds, the Hunter wades through rivers of blood.
I must kill the Master, he broods. Else his armies will march.
And from deathly sleep, the Pale Knight rises. What are a
few million dead? he dreams. That I might rest in peace
after they are gone.