Far away from the sweltering heat of Godgrave, high in the frigid cold of Ravenheart, a magnificent black palace was shrouded by the veil of a raging snowstorm. As the winds howled, a low and reverberating sound echoed in the snow, making the people in the city across the great bridge freeze and turn their heads.
There was the groan of stone, and then, the towering main gates of the black palace opened wide for the first time in countless years.
Beyond the gates nestled deep, dreadful darkness.
A moment later, grotesque shapes emerged from the darkness and entered into the light, moving indifferently through the lethal cold of the snowstorm.
A vast, seemingly endless river of marching dead was flowing out of the black palace, across the stone bridge, and into the towering fissure of the Dream Gate. There were Nightmare Creatures of all shapes and forms in that river, as well as countless humans.
