[NzothofVoid]

In the silent night, carried by the howling wind, does the darkened sea whisper of a fate.

In the dark abyss where monsters dwell,
The Prophet spoke of a vengeful spell,
And with a solemn, menacing tone,
He gave his follower a tome unknown.

The words inside were filled with wrath,
And the goal was clear: a bloody path.
The Prophet charged his follower true,
To seek revenge and follow through.

Then with a chilling, final gaze,
The Prophet vanished beneath the waves,
Leaving the follower with the task,
To bring their enemies to their last.

The follower clutched the tome so tight,
And felt a surge of wrathful might,
For though the Prophet was now gone,
His hate would live forever on.

And so the follower, with fiery heart,
Embarked upon their vengeful start,
To carry out the Prophet's charge,
And unleash the wrath that lay at large.

And with the rising of the sun, do the whispers seal a tale to its end.