2505.285 · October 12, 185 AD
The Night Zarabad Fell
For three generations, Zarabad coexisted with the creatures in the darkness beyond its walls. Livestock taken. The occasional attack repelled. An uneasy balance maintained through vigilance and firelight. Then seven shadows moved as one, and forty-three people learned that coexistence had always been an illusion.
The attack begins at the southern perimeter. Two shapes strike the livestock pens — Loss, Confusion, Torches streaming south. Then three more breach the northern wall whilst defenders are out of position. Eight dead in the first minutes. The remaining two wait, patient, watching the chaos unfold before choosing their moment. Four hours of coordinated slaughter. Bodies left uneaten. Livestock untouched. When dawn finally breaks, Zarabad counts its dead and confronts a truth that will reshape how every settlement in Clivilius understands the darkness: the shadow panthers are not hunting for food. They are hunting because they can. This is not predation. This is war.
