In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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For being so small, Whimsy sure could flit along quite quickly! He fluttered here and he fluttered there, emulating the pattern by which he'd been named.
Within moments he'd sounded the town alarm. Everyone would be on high alert now. Any other fighters to crawl through the woodwork could join the brave souls already on the lookout for the dragon. Meanwhile Whimsy collected himself at the edge of the newly erected Teleport Crystal outside the station.
The moogle waited for a few faces to gather: those who had followed him out of the meeting at the infirmary: those who were headed beyond the safe sanctuary's walls.
The moogle cleared his throat, looking to each denizen who had followed him. "Brave ones, from here you will be going into what is known as The Black Reach. It is the threshold of Darkness. It will be dangerous, kupo. We Moogles don't know what you will encounter. So be careful, kupo."
With that he turned his attention to the Teleport Crystal he hovered next to. "Before leaving, please make sure to follow the protocol. And please return to us safely... kuu." The end of the sentence indicated Whimsy's worry.