The winds blew hard and the storm clouds grew,

Of their horrible fate, the guests never knew,

Through the front door the assassin sliped,

As poison from her wicked blade dripped.

The poor Breton Matilda was the first to fall

Her body lay lifeless like an old broken doll,

Forth from the wound, rushed much blood.

Onto the ground in a with a deep crimson flood.

Dovisi was next, her throat slashed quite deeply

unto Death's hands was her life delivered swiftly.

With her bloodstained hands, the assassin slipped away,

Leaving the others in a state of dismay.

Lightning crashed, alighting the room

Spelling out Primo's inherit doom:

The assassin's blade shone from the door

And now in the Void Primo breathes no more.

The poor Nord Nells was hacked into bits,

Sent by Neville into the Void's black pits

Poor Neville never knew how badly he was tricked

Until by her, his name was picked

Looking up in horror, he saw her face

He realized his sin as he slipped to that place,

And the winds blew hard the storm clouds grew,

Of their horrible fates, the geusts never knew.