The Damned Prophet drifts through the mist-choked courtyards of the prison island looking for any lost souls that dare to hunt here. His presence alone seems to poison the air — a lingering dread that clings to the crumbling stone walls and rusted bars. Chains rattle when he passes, though none bind him. Prisoners whisper that these prophets once foresaw their own death here and embraced it, returning as the heralds of every other soul’s end. Their patrol around the island isn't a solitary one, they move with their two lieutenants, The Eviscerator's. These ferocious aggressors, armed with sharpened bones of their victims, rushing towards them to inflict heavy damage and bleeding.