A shrouded figure struggles up the barren, twisted hillside, his crooked form barely able to pull himself up the steep path. His journey is familiar, but his task is both alien and mortifying. As he crests the ancient dune, a cold chill reminds him of the unspeakable horrors that have graced this godforsaken land. He does not stop, even as his body screams for relief and his restless mind pleads for him to run far, far away from the nightmare that awaits him.
Finally he sees his goal, a black, shapeless void in time and space. It hovers so gracefully and yet fills his soul with such sickening dread. Steeling himself, he moves his wizened visage closer to the opening, listening intently.
The words that hiss from the abomination are exactly what he feared:
'It's time to meet the staff'