A soul from the past rises to reinstate an age of old.
Like a dark cloud he will engulf the land, brining terror untold.
For much too long the rightous have stood like a beacon in thier fight.
But nothing more than a pinpoint will they be against this new blight.
Like a candle in the abyss, the rightous can only shine so long.
Eventually to be enveloped by a darkness that is far too strong.
A lighthouse the church has been, drawning greater and greater numbers in battle.
Now like a hurricane he will move through them, thinning them out like cattle.
Blood no longer his driving force in deadly combat.
He lusts for something greater much more rewarding than that.
New ways to inflict pain at his mere finger tips.
Dying breaths will be one of the only things passing over rightous lips.
Before him many will stand, before him many will fall.
Many should hide from him, the rightous most of all.
No one can hold back the tide of the sea.
No church can hold back the darkness perpetually.
Though many will think it, a threat this has been not.
Perhaps a warning, something to ponder, or just a passing thought.

Caliph Khaseem, Shallowsoul Blood Warrior

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Chronos, in the year 242 AF.