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hermit of africville

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One thousand years ago, superstition and the sword ruled. It was a time of darkness. It was a world of fear. It was the age of gargoyles. Stone by day, warriors by night, we were betrayed by the humans we had sworn to protect, frozen in stone by a magic spell for a thousand years.

Now, here in Manhattan, the spell is broken, and we live again! We are defenders of the night! We are Gargoyles! Scout troop short a child, Khrushchev’s due at Idelwyld… Car 54, where are you? Harlem that’s backed up.

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