Servant of the Devourer

Exiled from civilization
He met a great demise
Clinging to wretched life
Praying for the fortune of death
The Demons his companions
These barren and hateful lands
The varmint of the dark speak in lost tongues

The red sun sets upon the scorching sand

Empty space becomes alive
Paralyzed in fear
He begins to understand them, the wasteland creatures
They mutter from the shadows and whisper wisdom of evil

He described the howling of demons heard only by the mad and the dying
His flesh a final tribute to the gods he praised
His demise was most wretched
Snatched from the earth in terror
None was left of him save his blood upon the sands
On the sands
None left of him

Empty space becomes alive
Paralyzed in fear
They mutter from the shadows and he saw visions of chaos