The people of Sangbolge were used to rain. If they got thirty days of sun a year, they were lucky. Today’s rain fall was just another day.

Puddles gathered in the streets. They had a strange, dark hue and oily texture.

Fisherman shouted out in horror when they realized that the fish spread out on the docks were losing their scales. Minutes later, the fish’s unblinking eye had melted away.

Those who were exposed to the rain began to show signs of discomfort. Their skin itched, rashes covered their bodies, and lethargy overcame them. People collapsed, unable to move. Their muscles loosened. Their skin sagged. Their hair, teeth, and nails fell out.

Two hours later, they liquidated into black puddles.

When the rainstorm passed, the sun shone on Sangbolge.

The puddles converged slowly and evaporated. The black droplets rose into the atmosphere, now joined with those who had transcended before them, and together, the black rain rode the wind currents along the coast of Ragnoros, to their next feeding ground.