Krasvetelia. The sun sets on this cold and desolate place. Once a beautiful land of craggy mountains, fertile valleys, and deep bottomless chasms, it has now wilted like a rose in winter.

The small kingdom, tucked away from the rest of the world, has had few rulers in its time. None certainly as evil as their current. It is rumored that Mirza Noctis came to power some two-hundred years ago. Eternally youthful, the man is whispered to have controlled the bloodlines of this place, carefully arranging unions between noble families and culling those of weaker bloodlines.

Now, the peoples of Krasvetelia live a harsh life, starved of happiness. Writing is outlawed and the caste system in place prevents all but a handful of nobles from holding titles and land in Noctis’s name. Up until recently, starving to death was most of Krasvetelian’s worries. But more and more, people are going missing in this land. Devoured by darkness, some say...

The scholars, left to themselves in their remote monasteries, have recently unearthed a terrible secret: Mirza Noctis is working tirelessly, his agents harvesting blood from the local populous. Years of unattachment to this land have left the people mostly unaware of his actions.

But a terrifying fact is now clear: Noctis is working towards a massive blood ritual. He has all but locked away any tools that could be used to defeat him, and the scholars worry he is just beginning. A greater threat is about to befall the land.