Soon a lament of wisdom is to be heard: "Karzacknikov you have opéééééned your last door of doom, the prophet's eyes will soon burn in the rage of titans."
It was a long lament that was quickly spreading through the myst and the plagye filled air: " One for my pants, two for the wind, three for the desolate wisdom, four for the remote people of the spazio tiempo, five for the ships of the kings and six for the honor of the Golem's Mighty Magic."
Karzacknikov spoke an ancient tongue of desolation: " El abismo shalli noti bi ourso per qué el lamento eroico qué youi havo pronouncedi isi noti chaosi enougho". Defeat, defeat, where are the dead trees of the birds last flight?
Karzacknikov's power is that of a whip of chaos. The solitary dwarf returning to his evil state took his Buring Red Crimson Axe of Havoc Wreaking Sodomy to fly to new horizons along with a steelgod o the last apocalypse. Piangue!
Théééé black queen is réééééééédy, her clit of bitch moves in waves, like those of the sea of future suffering: "From the mystic mountains, I rise to face, to face my reflected destiny in the eyes of the sleeping troll." A new hope?
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