A chill/stifling/piercing wind whips through the ancient/crumbling/weathered oaks as I embark/venture/descend upon this treacherous/sacred/forbidden path. The moon, a pale orb/gleaming disc/silver sliver, casts long shadows that dance and writhe like spectres/phantoms/ghosts. Each rustling leaf/crunching footstep/sighing bough whispers tales of for

The unholy hymns of a Obsidian Void slither through the physical realm, their melodies a corruption to thesoul. All note is a whisper from the pit, calling souls to our end. Seekers of such power strive into the void, searching to command its terrible force. But here beware| Those who hear to those hymns truly understand their meaning, and they ar