Servant of Tides

Daughters of the sea, their souls and flesh corroded by the sins of "Destruction," now dance and chant for the coming Dark Sun as hollow, twisted husks. The remnant black tide flows from past ages into this world's tides— Loyal and fair waves, bathing in the mud that overflows from your master's cup... your pristine skirts stained with madness— You drift directionless between surges of life and death, finding no solace, no moment's peace.