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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Purple skies. Nighttime was approaching. Got to find a place to rest. Somewhere away from the rest of all the blithering people and their committees. Away from the madness of law and it's order. Somewhere where Xing Tang, wounded, tired, and angry, could rest, could vent, could let out his rage in a nap.
Within his search of the world's outskirts, he found The Great Maw. It was large, uninhabited, even had a few miniature cliffs to shield from rain and such. This could, no, would work.
Setting off, he found himself a nice little cove that would shield him from the eastern-rising sun that would arrive come morning. It could also keep off any rain and such. Not that he couldn't handle the rain, no. It was just unpleasant, and after a day or two of dealing with bureaucratic fools who couldn't just tell him what he wanted to know, the last thing he needed was another unpleasantry...
Sitting himself down into a meditative position, he took care of his wounded leg, manning out the pain while trying to make it...comfortable, to a degree. This damned hole in his calf was going to take some time. Xing didn't like waiting, especially when he himself was the weak factor in the equation. Glaring around, making sure nobody was in sight, he rubbed it a bit, trying to ease the pain. Nobody was going to see this. Nobody should see this.
