Many trials make manifest The stranger's fate, the curses' bane. Many touchstones try the stranger. Many fall, but one remains.

When earth is sundered, and skies choked black, And sleepers serve the seven curses, To the hearth there comes a stranger, Journeyed far 'neath moon and star. Though stark-born to sire uncertain His aspect marks his certain fate. Wicked stalk him, righteous curse him. Prophets speak, but all deny.

This is the best known of the Nerevarine prophecies. We call it 'The Stranger'.