The folklore of Horsingdon and Northwich is awash with tales of spectral black horses - often of monstrous proportion and with glowing red eyes. There are more than a few stories involving the disappearance of the those who have dared to climb Horsingdon Hill's peak after dark, and whose failure to return from their foolish errand has often been foreshadowed by the approaching sound of monstrous hooves agallop, and a night disturbed by the horrible, atonal neighing of some praeternatural beast.
Ironcast plaques in the shape of horseheads have long been hung outside the abodes of the inhabitants of Horsingdon and Northwich - primarily as apotropaic wards against ill-luck and the evil eye.
Less frequently, the guardians of the Black Bowers have used these signs to designate their own abodes. For it is said that those sinister oracles treat these accounts of misshapen black equines stampeding pandaemoniacally through the Horsingdon landscape as no more than achemical auguries, alluding to an inevitable moment: when Those Who Wait spew forth to irreversibly trample the world into the particulate and subatomic blackness from which it first arose.