PICTURESQUE POETICS
Many wavering fools would touch that book in my temple, debating whether or not to write their name within it, unsure of whether they could bring themselves to dedicate their souls to me. What none of them knew until it was too late is that merely touching the book is all I required to claim them. What I desire, I take, with no inconvenient rules to hinder me.
The meat is mine, his soul is stored within the amulet you bade him pocket, and I have taken his place in the natural order of this world, and with the tools my acolytes sent through before they could be consumed by the <YOU ARE NOT TO KNOW> , such as this ring, wherein was hidden the bulk of my power, I may now break that nature to pieces, replace it with my own order and start anew in this world you have gifted to me.
There's one last thing I need