Perhaps you've seen it, maybe in a dream. A murky, forgotten land. A place where souls may mend your ailing mind. You will lose everything, once branded. The symbol of the curse. An augur of darkness. Your past, your future, your very light. None will have meaning and you won't even care. By then you'll be something other than human. A thing that feeds on souls. A hollow.

Long ago, in a walled off land, far to the north, a great king built a great kingdom. I believe they called it Drangleic. Perhaps you're familiar. No, how could you be. But one day, you will stand before its decrepit gate. Without really knowing why…

Like a moth drawn to a flame, your wings will burn in anguish. Time after time. For that is your fate. The fate of the cursed.