At the frowning gates of Nīwebeorg Mynster, beneath the weight of eldritch stone and cloistered gloom, there broods an unholy secret—a curse sealed by the very blood of forgotten men.
The abbey, once a place of pious repute, now breathes naught but whispers of dread and arcane rituals long lost to common ken. A lone noble, enticed by a most mysterious portent, ventures thither, unwittingly falling prey to the malignancy that festers in its hallowed halls.
As the candlelight flickers and the air grows thick with dread, the dark utterance rises in an unearthly tongue: "כְּתוֹב הוּא וְכֵּן יַעֲשֶׂה"—"So shall it be, and so shall it come." The dread prophecy, unspoken for centuries, now stirs, heralding the doom of all who dare trespass.
