From the hollow depths where light dares not tread, I have summoned the winds that carry the scent of decay. I have walked with the phantoms that dwell beyond time and touched the hands of the forsaken. In the circle of the undying, I shall crown you with thorns made from your own hubris. Bow to the shadows that hunger for your soul, for they know your fate better than you. The void has eyes, and it is through them that your downfall has been written in the language of the ancients.
