Drak cool wind blow threw the streets of Gar Og Nadrak. Dead leaves cared of into the drak coulds, that swriled around the drak gloomy city. In the center of this dramp city lays the castle where the drak goddess reised. Her long blonde hair draped over the throwen, like slik, Her plae white skin, almost had a bule tint to it, glew. Long black finder nails tapped the throwen, the black lace dress showed , all cruves, and her eyes, complet black, no life, just darkness, pain, chaos. This is what up Asling, Goddess of Drakness. She sat in her throwen room awaiting her messanger and sure enouh he arriveled. The man wore all black and face was crovered by a hood. "M'lady, it is as you feared...Fait has truely not beed dead...Also, the orb...it's has not resrufed either..." The mans voice sounded of nails on a chockbored. Asling sat up. "What of Fait?..." She said eyes growing draker. "His soul is traped...he is still walking the earth, for what reasons I do not know...." Asling roar was heared across the land, it awoke even the dead. "Damn her...." She said under her breath. "Make sure you find and KILL Fait, He must not find the eight...or The Orb...I worked to hard, to control the mortals, and there wlord..."
Stumble!