It was the 28th of May.
On this day, the world had veered away from its typical routine.
The usually radiant sun was nowhere to be seen, obscured by a sinister veil of roiling black clouds. As a result, it was as though all colors had drained, replaced by an eerie spectrum of greys and blacks.
And honestly, it looked like a scary picture from a dark storybook.
This view was so out of the ordinary that it sent an involuntary shiver down the spines of all who beheld it, whether they were the humblest commoner or the most esteemed nobility.
Today, they all knew, was the day they dreaded the most!
In the commercial section of the Stronghold, a baker stopped kneading his dough when he caught sight of the eerie spectacle in the sky.
"By the gods," he muttered, "it's an Eldritch day."
It was easy to recognize an Eldritch day. After all, when an Eldritch day came, the sky over one's head would be swallowed by black clouds and day would look no different than night.
