Ave O Varlok! Ye ring, quaff and revel doubtless among the lofty reaches of the inferno's finer encampments, sir Nemesinh. I seek of thee but a simple answer to what i dream tho waking as deeming a fair and publicly neutral question. Only within this passing year of Historical Doom and Earthen Plague, MMXX, have i discovered these secular treasure troves wherein one financially impoverished as I, tho not once berating the penumbrae thre lioghts thje neathly halls wherein some sable ilk are wont to passage if only to hail our Skulda having woven this creator's eternal path with utmost peril and herculean feat in every brising of the solar eye scorching the virulent piled corpses iunto an eventuated larvaesque tallow high on char. and yet i am able to call out to the deaf bheavens in askance: who is this narrator? your collection of CASmith occultisms are revered iconic awe when canted by this speaker. REHoward, so naturallyu as well and i beg the ghasts that circle my smoking pit when the moon darkens wan to claw your nation-gutting will with the never satiate kneading to vocally upheave the time punctured kegs of Lovecrafts progeny. Or whatever, dark sir. Apologies for the length of any of this, scratched upon the precipice of one ghoul harried witching hour, at such a commoners forum or kit... though this seemed to be the course that offered my baying demons the best chances at the moniker unto which many great words shall be emblazoned Sincerely, Usurper Ulfkro, Herr Jakob Turambar ov an epoch and lay hight Phantasmagoric Dyrte
