KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
KOBOLD
Walls made of skulls and bones
Worned out by time
As a mocking warning
To the death that awaits for us
Which kind of life
Did the buried people lead?
A small altar, a candle holder
And...a key!
The key of the church door!
Fir comes closer and takes the key:
Exactly at the same time
A silent and dark rumble
Moves deep our bowels
Looking closely at the altar pedestal
Saroma discovers a rough script:
"This key will never leave the world of the dеad
Otherwise the dеad will come back into the world of the human beings"
Something terrible was happening