[Random Park]

There's something going on here.

The air sparks above an intricately carved circle, somehow carved into the grass and dirt. Runes line the edges, and the smell of burnt sage fills the area. In the middle of the circle rests a book upon a pedestal, open to a page with runes that seem to crawl from place to place over the page.

There's a man here, perhaps in his early or mid twenties. His white hair is help out of his face by a headband, and his red eyes shine out from dark insomnia-induced bags around his eyes from otherwise porcelain skin. His garb consists of a black robe, the furred edges trailing an olive green color, giving an overall dark look to his otherwise albino features.

He's speaking in an arcane language, and as the final moments of twilight approach, his chanting reaches it's peak, and he finishes the call. Nothing truly seems to happen for a moment... but then, slowly, a pair of shapes begin to form. A pair of black birds slowly take shape floating above the ritual circle. Each of these ravens has a series of four eyes, two on each side of their head, as they stare out at the world.