rumbling in the distance
Do you feel it?
Do you feel the change in the air?
a hot, fetid breeze stirs
The King of Rape has been stymied
His lack of elegance his killing curse
sulfurious wind gusts with stinging sand
For three years have we grown in secret
Nestled in the bosom of Altmer plenty
ash drifts down like snow
The Webspinner is stirring in Her Skein
All, Mortal and Greater, tremble before Her plan
fire upon the horizon
It is time that we, strong and fed once more, stir as well
We turn our eyes toward the land where She has her heart upon Nirn