For as long as there have been men, they have feared the darkness. At first they huddled around their fires, shivering at the glittering eyes just out of the fires reach. Today monsters still prowl the night. But humanity wallows in ignorant bliss, writing off the swaying shadows as a childhood fantasy. There is a rare breed of human, one who knows the truth about the nightmare lurking all around human kind. They call themselves hunters, the veil has been ripped from their eyes. Some by violence, others by proximity, and others still delved to deep into questions that shouldn't have been asked. They carry out their tireless vigil, without recognition or thanks. Instead labeled insane and broken. But you know the truth, you know what hides behind the pale gentleman's smile, you know the secret in the lonely howl, and you know the secrets of the old crone casting bones in the dark. This is your vigil, odds are it will end violently, that it will end young. But for every hunter that falls another takes his place, stumbling awkwardly into the dark.