I am the thorn in the foot, I am the blur in the sight
I am the worm at the root, I am the demon in the night
I am the rat in the wall, the leper that leers at the gate
I am the ghost in the hall, herald of horror and hate
I am the rust on the corn, I am the smut on the wheat.
Laughing man's labor to scorn, weaving a web for his feet.
I am canker and mildew and blight, danger of death and decay
The rot of the rain by night, the blast of the sun by day
I warp and wither with drought, I work in the pit's foul yeast
I bring plague from the south and leprosy from the east
I am the shrill cold spirit that chills the darkness you feel after dark
I am the nightmare that tears stars apart.
You cannot escape me
You cannot defeat me

You can only embrace me.



In service of the Pit,
Llindith Syl'etvai

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Vita, in the year 402 AF.