Crows of many sizes begin to form within the air over the Sigil, circling the town square mainly; though, not limited. Blood drips at a slow pace from their beaks, forming small pools of crimson in random spots. Dead purple crows lay in the busy streets and their beaks occupied by small black orbs. Over top of the flying crows forms a small cyclone, but if one observes closer they can see it is more of a portal of some kind. From the portal more crows begin to enter...
New Threat
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