Gazing upon the keep he sees his prize, the vault stands open. He walks inside. The walls stand weeping as they sing to the northern sun. A dead wind blows from deep within its halls.
Torches litter the passageway, shadows flinch in the light. Ancient tunnels of black magic carved long, long ago. Deeper he descends, the hours turn to weeks.
I can't stop now I've come from long ago.
Skeleton King. Keeper of the Dead. Skeleton King. Mortal blood will shed.
Slowly pressing on delirious and obsessed, as Spellblades light illuminates the halls. And at long last he hears the demons call, and answers with a battle cry that seems to shake the halls.
Falling dust cascades from bone and the wretch stands ten feet tall. But Aedris knows that Spellblades glow will weaken its fragile bones. A flash of light aids his fight and leaps towards his foe. Ribbons of steel with vigor and zeal, the fight goes on and on.
My strikes land every time and he falters with every blow!
Skeleton King. Keeper of the Dead. Skeleton King...now lays upon cold stone.
Bested by a mortal man. The shadows tell the walls of the battle in halls and he lifts the hammer high. The tunnels start to roar and in front appears a door of colored gems and stones leading to The Forge.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
