08/08/2026
Hear ye, hear ye, good folk of Forgotten Gods and the wide realms beyond!
For many a fortnight hath the blazing Sun smote us with a heat most cruel, roasting our brows and boiling our patience. Thus did we seek counsel from a great and wondrous magician, master of charms and keeper of eldritch arts, beseeching him to blot out the Sun and grant us respite from this infernal scorch.
The mage, robed in mystery and smelling faintly of alcohol, vowed to bend his powers toward our plight. Long did he toil in secret chambers, muttering runes older than kings, until at last he returned—wild‑eyed, triumphant, and clutching a strange relic not of our age.
He spake thus:
“From the far‑flung future have I wrested this enchanted visor. Each soul that dons it shall find the Sun darkened to their liking. No star shall blind thee, no glare shall vex thee. Wear it, and the heavens themselves shall bow.”
So now, brave friends, we ask thee: Will thou test this marvel for us?
Dare thou don the visor of shadow and see if the mage’s promise holds true?
Step forth, ye bold of heart—
For the future hath sent us a gift, and the Sun itself quivers before it.