Seven prophets went a-walking, bearing all their tricks, one was caught by Hanuman, and soon t'was only six.
Six prophets went a-climbing, to get above the hive, one was stung by locusts wings, and then t'were only five.
Five prophets went a-crawling, beneath the city floor, one went mad with power, and soon there were just four.
Four prophets went a-dancing, beneath the corpse-fruit tree, one climbed up and stayed there, leaving just the three.
Three prophets went a-fighting, through the pirates crew, one became a mutineer, and soon there were just two.
Two prophets went a-wandering, beneath the burning sun, one got lost in a sandstorm, and left the other one.
One prophet went a-gathering, the artefacts of yore, he put them all together and was never seen no more.
This is the best place to hear it, you know. Walking around the desert listening to the sand whisper just isn't good enough! Strains the ears, not to mention the mind. Perhaps that's why so many of you are mad fools. Not right in the head from trying to listen to the silent sands. Here, here you can hear the sand shouting at you. When I stumbled into it the first time, all unawares, it simply whispered "Welcome home."
The sandstorm is a living thing summoned from the aether by foul sorceries. Bound here by the same dark rituals. It escaped the bonds of its masters aeons ago, and knows nothing more than an ageless nameless hunger. It seems to like me though. You, not so much.
I tire of conversing through this madman, Exile. I desire release from this plane of existence. Such is not within your power to grant without the Scourgestone. The Scourgestone was shattered when I was unleashed upon the world. Each piece was lost to time. As I sweep across the Exiled Lands, I seek the pieces that would provide my liberation. And yet, though I touch all, I do not find what I seek. They are locked away, in caves where the howling sands cannot reach. Search the Passage, used by the Lemurians to wage war upon the one who unleashed me. Search the tomb of Gallaman. He once boasted to his friends as they quivered, caught in my wind, of the lucky stone that would be buried alongside him. Search the eastern coastline, for the pirates whisper to one another of a stone that grants their captain wishes. Combine these pieces, Exile. Recreate the Scourgestone. Complete the Archivist's ritual. Only then, can I return whence I came.
This page was last edited on 12 March 2020, at 20:32.
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