Marivhon's Prophecy
The Oracle leans over, straining to hear you. He nods along with the jokes, then considers the punchlines.
"Hmm. Heh. Heh heh. A HA HA! That's a good one." He raises his bottle of Fresca to you in toast.
"But have you heard this one? It goes
Knock knock.
Who's there?
Interrupting cow.
Interr.. MOO!"
"I love that one. Gets me every time. Okay, here are a couple prophecies for you. (Ahem.)
The flame of rage and vengeance, the chilling of the soulThe depths and limits, far away, a bell begins to tollYou'll seek a man and find a grave that will become your ownInstead of mercy, ruthlessness; instead of flesh, just bone.Sixteen faces, staring, waiting, watching what you'll doFifteen of them are masks of lies with only one but trueFourteen months have come and gone and faces waiting stillThirteen corpses carve your hangman's name, simply saying 'Vrill'.Hmm. Those were pretty morbid. I guess if you wanted prophecies about, I dunno, where to find a cold beer or about a unicorn or something, well... huh. I guess you wouldn't need a prophey then. That's the way it goes kid.
Did you have a question for me?"