From the east a storm. A dark presence filled the air and pushed its way towards the village. A living entity blotted the sky as it crossed the heavens. The shadow cast seemed to envelop the land. Scared by this ominous occurence the villagers took refuge in their homes. Pulling the shutters and locking the doors. And the skies grew dim and blackened, nearly omitting every ounce of light from the sun.

Ominous and dark, the plagued cowered in the corners of their homes. Barely covered in scraps torn and unwashed they huddled together. Loud thunderous noises enveloped the small village. The children cried and their parents wept as their blood teared eyes stained their cheeks and seemed to perfectly reflect the fear inside them all.

The thunderous noise approched and the children began to scream. Holding them tightly, the adults prepared for the end, reflecting on the choices they made. Cursing the heavens and this plague for taking their children at such a young and tender age. Closer and closer it magifiied what semed a thousand fold. A deafening and unrelentless noise amplified by the sensitive hearing brought on by the plague.

Suddenly silence. The children quelled by their siblings and parents. The silence as deafening as the thuderous roar. Suddenly a knocking. Tap tap tap tap, a knocking on the widows and doors. Simular to the hammers of dozens of villagers building a stead, repititious over and over. Relentless...

Hobbled and weak, the homes patron wearily approached the wooden slats that covered the window. His form seemed frail and weak as every move seemed to be a painful effort. Pushing aside his pain and discomfort he hushed his spouse, imploring her with sunken eyes to keep the children quiet. He turned and reached up with long skeletal fingers, slowly up unlatching the only protection they had. As the window opened he gasped.

The streets, the roofs and the windows were littered with large black birds. Their feathers gleaned a reflection of the sun in the most brilliant of darkest blues. Not one made a sound with the exception of the tapping of their beaks on closed widows and doors. Tied to its foot a vial, tied to every foot of every bird a vial. A parchment loosely tied to the vial read, "Have Heart" with a stamp unfamiliar to the man. Not a sigil he had privy to in all his years. These ravens of salvation had obviously come from a foriegn land.