Something dark has taken root within you, <name>. The tendrils of N'Zoth are burrowing into your mind and soul, eager to consume everything you are.
I can perform a rite of cleansing, but only in a place that resonates with the very power that grips you.
Meet me near the Crucible of Storms. The ritual will be perilous and painful, but it is your only chance to be free.
The Old God has eyes everywhere. I do not wish you to become one of them.