Mindless and without memory you are pursued through streets coated in a yellow fog.
Through the nightmare asylum did you slog.
By day fighting horrors while surrounded by the yellow miasmic smog.
At night in your dreams, hunted like a dog.
With Zandalus gone, the Oniergons slain, and the Tatterman dead.
The nightmarish mists have finally fled.
Yet your memories are still missing and you are filled with a sense of dread.
Your pursuit continues driving you ahead.
The cult did lurk, the cult did writhe
The cult hid before Thrushmoor's very eyes.
In caves black did the druid dwell.
Defeated by sword and fist, staff and spell
Upon the path they trod themselves
Through fortress halls lost to men
Smote the claws that grasped in greed
Hearts in bond they found and freed
From out the Darkness hard to light
Came one small band of growing might
Beneath Thrushmoor's lands did one small band
Face horrid skum and monstrous man
Broke the chains of the night
Ended Melisandra's growing plight
The journey yet still unfurls
Upon the sea where water swirls