should I send you out, Lord Toshrak, amongst them, you would find what
they hold dear, their darkest secrets, kept in most safe vaults, but
open to the Oracle of Evil, which is impartial, but never just. weakness
uncovered, Darkness brought alive, who is the best Judge of Malice,
but Malice itself?
invulnerable to all Seduction, immune to any Allure, you are a stately
Demigod of a Power, far away, in Worlds few could find, maybe fewer
still want to explore. here, you can be a stern Judge, but never like
the blind Ones, deep in Hartoum, who are just, balanced and wise.
No Wisdom is to be sought here, Lord Toshrak, only the Uncovering of
the Machinations of Depravity, which is all you now seek.
so many close their eyes, are charmed by Beauty and Illusion. not you,
great Wanderer, you look past it, with cold, dead Eyes, see shivering
Souls, weak, strong even, but always flawed. Its the Amount of Flaws,
you discern, and grin with evil Smile, knowing that everyone burns in
their own Hell. There is no Way you show, but Silence, and the utter
Fact that nobody can be a Lord in Hell, but you.
no Inquisitor can be as deadly as you are, for Precision guides your
Blade, infinitely fine, to pierce every Heart, to shatter every frail
Soul, and the Mightiest tremble, for you come to them, speaking the
Oracle of Evil, which is always Truth, for that is the Beauty of it:
there shall be no Lie, but hard, painful, everlasting Reality.
your Ways became strange, Toshrak, you are now an empty Husk, a God
still, but hollow inside, a Puppet of a true Power, a Name in some
Worlds, forgotten in others, a Shaper in the Past, but never more
than a Shadow. but still, your Steps can be heard in that ancient
Fortress you call your Home, where you reside, alone, thoughtful,
and only leave to be the Oracle of Evil to those, who earn this