In the years before the dark sisters snared us in their net of sorrow, it is
said the spoiling gaze of the Elder Elemental Eye penetrated the
foulest cave and the brightest temple.  All who drew breath feared the
power of the Dark Lord and bowed before the tyranny of his four
children.

But infidels and deceivers sought to quell the fury of the Great Eye,
jealous of His righteous might and fearful they would not measure up
under His stern judgement.

A trap was laid, a bargain struck -- three bright daggers struck our Dark
Lord and the heavens swam with poison.  Oceans boiled.  Earth cracked.  Foul
winds raged across the land as gouts of fire rained upon the treacherous
unbelievers.  They sought the death of the Dark Lord but wrought their own
doom instead.

Stricken, the Eye sleeps.

But in that sleep are dreams and plans and plottings.  Rituals and massacres
and triumph and revenge.

Even in sleep, the Eye speaks.

It calls. It whispers. It commands.

And we are the chosen! We hear the cries! We know the reward!

The hour is nearing as the prophecy unfolds and we toil, ever harder, ever
faster.  Soon the seekers shall find the man-child.  Soon the four moons
shall orbit the son and join together their voices in a beautiful chorus,
singing Father!  Father!  Father!  Drums shall beat.  Their painful cry will rend
the heavens and then it will not be stopped -- it cannot be stopped -- it must not
be stopped, for we are so close.  We have worked so hard, prayed so hard, and
planned and suffered and sweated and died and now our reward is so near.
We can taste the sweet scent of victory when the all powerful might of the
Elder Elemental Eye comes forth again to bathe us in His glory and smite
the traitorous infidels, crush them, crack, and destroy them with the cruel
truth of the hollow fragility of their ill-spent lives.