On Drak And Ancients

Ancients. Yes. From Ark Morgo, they descend. Sent as messengers from gods. Vesztah! Merphisz! Fyraszh! Arisztar! Dalszul! To choose new gods, yes. The strongest among us! But fools! Fools! They choose humans! Weak Skulls, break easily! Squishy bellies, soft and flabby! Tiny fire-makers. Pah! Fire is weak. We stomp out spark, we swallow flame, we bring rise with storm of violet blood! But humans tricked us. Beat us in battle — with machines and devilry! Not fair! We bathed in shame and shadow for too long! Human flame is weak now! Should not burn near Ark Morgo! Their bodies are rotting. Bones soft, flesh spoiled — Time comes. Drak rise. Drak'Dal take chance in pitiful basin. Throne waits. Ark Morgo ours again!

Such big building! Tall spire! Bright light! Can only be made by Descendants of Ark Morgo, yes — Ancients must be messengers! Connect to Ark Morgo above! Beam to the sky beyond the clouds! A pathway for the worthy! But glowy platform don't work right! Rah! Drak'Dal will prove themselves anyway! Will enter! Squish Flame in battle! Win favor of gods!