MIDNIGHT REAVER NYARLATHOTEP PLUSH X$
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wind howls with the ambience of a thousand tortured souls, whispering
unheeded warnings as the clock strikes twelve. Hidden behind you,
indistinguishable from the shadows at your feet, lurks the god of a
thousand forms, Nyarlathotep, his malevolent desires ignited like the
flame in his eyes as his tentacled claw reaches outward.